Like Father, Like Son
by Leuca
Summary: Severitus Challenge Response. Harry Potter has always lived his life under a lie. What happens when this life is broken, and there's not reality to face except the truth? Will Severus and his son be saved? What about the Dark Mark?
1. Chapter One

Like Father, Like Son

Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. Savior to the Wizarding World. Son of the famous Lily and James Potter. All of these titles describe him, but, not really. They don't tell who he is, what his mind is like, and how he has suffered. This is a story about how the Boy-Who-Lived became something else. The son of a Death Eater. 

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"LILY!" A deep voice shouted, resonating throughout the house. "I'M BACK"

The man who yelled could hear a loud shriek echo from upstairs, and exactly three seconds later he was hit in the stomach by a short, red-haired woman. Towering over her, he bent down, and placed a passionate kiss on her lips. She looked up at him, her green eyes glittering with tears.

"We've missed you so much!" She whispered, after a second, her voice caught in her throat. She placed a hand over her expanding stomach. "The baby's glad you're back, too."

With a smile on his lips, relief in his obsidian black eyes, the man hugged Lily even tighter. "I'm back. And I'll be here a long time, long enough to greet my baby into the world. And we'll be a family, Lils. No pretending anymore."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Lils." 

Then, a black haired man came down the stairs. At seeing the man his "wife" was hugging, James Potter broke in to a grin, glad to see his friend home and safe again. 

"It's great to see you back in one piece, Severus."

And Severus was true to his word. Lily Potter and Severus Snape were together. By keeping the whole wizarding world under the impression that Lily and James were married, they were able to stay with one another, despite the Death Eater and Muggle-born relationship. As Remeus Lupin , another good friend of theirs said, "It's like a wizard version of Romeo and Juliet, without all the death and despair, of course."

The relationship had started a very long time ago. Lily had been good friends with the Marauders, and had shocked everyone when she had become friends with "that greasy scum, Snivellus". But, the friendship had done both of them good, and none of the boys could argue that Lily seemed a lot happier when she was around Severus. But, the tidings of war changed their lives. Snape was already a Death Eater, spying for Dumbledore when he was given the word to kill several powerful aurors. 

Lily was furious. They had a very public falling out. No one ever thought that they would see each other again. What everyone didn't know was that they had a very private making up, and kept their relationship a secret from there. 

To the public, Lily began to spend a lot of time with James, and when they announced that they were to be married, none were surprised. However, Lily did not marry James. She married Severus, who was placed under many different appearance charms. Sirius was the best man, thinking that it was James wedding.

No one, of course, except for a select few could know of these on goings. Only James, Lily, Severus and Remeus were aware about the whole thing, despite how much it pained the two Marauders to keep a secret from their other friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. But Severus had dire news that someone close to the foursome was spreading information, and it could very well be one of the two.

This news was hardest on James, who could never imagine Sirius, who had been his best friend since his very first trip on the Hogwarts Express actually being a spy. But then again, surely Peter wasn't smart enough to give such information?

Until Voldemort was defeated, they'd never know.

Dumbledore knew as well, but that was a given. If it had anything to do with members of the Light side, Albus knew. He was everywhere, and, despite his age, was clearly the main person fighting the war against the Dark Lord. 

The baby had been born on a bright July 31. Severus had been so filled with joy, yet his heart broke when he thought about all the terrible things that could happen to his precious son. There were two birth certificates filled out, one, claiming the boy to be Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, the other, the true one, introducing the baby as Sameth Augustus Snape, son of Lily and Severus Snape. The latter one was preserved, kept in a security vault at Hogwarts, along with several other things used to protect the boy's true paternity. 

More than appearance charms were placed on the boy, to keep him safe. Not only did he look incredibly like James, (in fact, the only feature of Lily's he had was his eyes), but he also inherited some of his genetic talents, like an ability in Transfiguration, and a usually even tempered personality. The charms were to wear off when the boy was sixteen, and the parts of him that were James would turn in to Severus, unless the charms were repeated. To make sure that the charms didn't wear off as soon as the boy turned sixteen, an owl was arranged to be sent on the boy's birthday. It would release a gas that would spark the beginning of the changes, and the rest would follow over the next few days. By a weeks time, the boy would be completely a Snape.

Neither father nor mother was looking that far into the future, though. In these dark times, Voldemort could strike quickly, and before you could fully comprehend the green light shooting towards you, you'd be dead. It was better off to live for the day, however pessimistic you thought that view. 

After the child was born, the couple was in bliss. However, it was to be short lived, as Voldemort became aware that the child of James and Lily was born, fulfilling a prophecy that could lead to his downfall. He summoned all his Death Eaters to him, and kept them working hard to find more ways to immortality.

Then, one Halloween night, he decided that the time was right, and marched upon Godric's Hollow. With him were his top servants, Lucius Malfoy, and Severus Snape. Snape had no forewarning of the attack, and kept his trust in Sirius, that the Fidelius Charm would not fail. The rest of the story is well known to all in the wizarding world.

Voldemort attacked, killing Lily and James. The boy, however, remained alive, no damage done, save a lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Voldemort vanished. 

Severus was not so lucky. Lucius blamed him for failure to protect their lord. The Cruciatus was cast, and left on for nearly half an hour. Then, looking down at the raw and bleeding man, Malfoy cast a memory charm, stronger than Obliviate. Severus fell, and all was dark.

Dumbledore rescued Harry, and sent him with Hagrid to the Dursleys. Then, he had some business to take care of. Finding Severus unaware of the attack, his son, or anything regarding the past two years of his life, Dumbledore took him to Hogwarts, took care of his wounds, and told him a story. A story of how Severus and Lily had been friends, but they had fought, and Severus had turned to the Dark Side for comfort. He hated James for stealing his flower, and hated Harry for being James's son. Then, two years ago, he had begun teaching at Hogwarts. 

Then, all was left alone. Severus began to teach Potions at Hogwarts, under the protection of Dumbledore. He remained there for years, and when rumors of Voldemort returning to power surfaced, he began a double-life, cozying up to his "old friends". Again, yet, to his mind, for the first time. 

Remeus Lupin, the other surviving member of the group of friends, gave his word under oath to Dumbledore not to reveal the truth behind the Potters to anyone, including Harry, if they should ever meet, and Snape. Dumbledore gave no word to as why he was being so secretive, and vaguely responded "It's necessary." when questioned. Remeus got rather mad when Sirius Black was placed in Azkaban, but was reassured by Dumbledore that in the long run it would be better than saying the truth. 

So, for years, things went on. 

__

Then, Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, favorite of everyone came to school. Severus remembered what Dumbledore had told him, about Lily, and James stealing her away from him with his conceited appearance and money. This boy was an exact replica of James, and for that, Harry was hated. Not to mention that he always got preferential treatment from everyone else. All the teachers, students, were all in awe of this little first year. Hell, he didn't even remember what he had done in order to gain such praise. Meanwhile, Severus slaved away, spying for Dumbledore, taking the unbearable pain of the Cruciatus, and got no recognition. 

The years continued on, and every year, Harry managed to save someone from Voldemort, or something like that. It made Severus sick, the boy wasn't even a fully trained wizard yet. 

And so, time passed. Until one summer, then everything changed. 

It was after Harry's fifth year. He was still fifteen. Things were terrible. Every passing night was a reminder of his godfather Sirius's death. Each day was filled with hard work, slaving away from the Dursleys. They were treating him worse than ever, and several times Uncle Vernon had only barely stopped himself from hitting the boy, remembering at the last second the reminder that had been given to him at the beginning of the summer.

He had received some owls from his friends, who were all apparently having a good time. Hermione was on vacation in France, again, and Ron was busy with his flying. (He continued practicing, as he truly wanted to be the best Keeper possible next year). 

One correspondence that Harry was painfully missing was Sirius's. Normally, Harry would have received at least some letters, but not now. 

So it was on one such summer day, as Harry lay in his room, trying to get some rest. He was having difficulties sleeping through the night, and his Uncle Vernon had constantly had to pound on his door at 3 a.m. in order to stop the screaming. He had come in even once or twice, waken Harry up, and promised pound him upside the head if there were to be any more interruptions in his precious sleep. Harry pondered. There had to be some way to get a good nights sleep without using magic. 

Suddenly it came to him. "I'll make some Dreamless Sleep Potion!" Harry muttered aloud. Technically, it wouldn't be wand-magic, and thus illegal. Plus, the potion would be pretty easy, considering that they had studied it the previous year in class. Not that that made it any easier for Harry, who could honestly say that his Potions ability were slightly better than Neville Longbottom's, but, not by that much. 

Actually, when he thought about it, this was the first time that Harry had actually willingly wanted to make a potion. Perhaps his avoidance of the subject was not due to his ability (or lack thereof) but instead of his hated Potions Master, Severus Snape. 

The greasy, hook-nosed former Death Eater had a particular loathing when it came to Harry, and thus made it very difficult to concentrate on Potion-making instead of the fear of being tormented for any slight error.

The irony of course, being that this should have helped him make his potions, being so alert. But the paranoia, always looking over his shoulder drove him crazy. So it was that in the middle of the night, instead of trying to sleep, Harry began his potion brewing. He managed to keep his ingredients as well as cauldron in his room this year, and his family was actually allowing him to keep his trunk in his room. It made it much easier to study, and get his homework done.

Finding the correct potion in his book was easy. The Dreamless Sleep provided by it would be a relief, but there were a few side-effects and warnings that couldn't help but scare Harry. For one, the potion was addictive, and could lead to insanity, as well as short term effects of nausea, dizziness, and, if brewed incorrectly, death.

Still, Harry was convinced. He began to brew, and found it unexpectedly easier than he had thought. Things just started to click in his mind. Which ingredients did what, why, and how they should be added were quickly memorized and kept in his mind. Harry was tired though, and couldn't really acknowledge or analyze any of this information. 

The potion only took about 5 hours to make, given the conditions Harry was under, such as the lack of sleep, and magic-free fire that was hard to manage, but it needed to be cooled over the next twelve. So, it was around four in the morning when Harry finally stood up. He turned on a light, keeping it dimmed. All he needed right now was for Uncle Vernon to come in and see the simmering green liquid in the vials for something very bad to happen.

Harry stood up and saw himself in the mirror. Gods, he looked horrible. His hair was dirty, and very slimy to touch, from his head being bent over the potion for so long. His skin was pale, and he looked thin. Actually, if he scowled, he sorta reminded himself of a certain Potions Master. 

"I almost feel sorry for the bastard," Harry thought, smirking at himself in the mirror, "if he has to wake up to this every morning."

Taking out some spare parchment and quills, Harry began to reply to a letter from Ron, that had been asking about him and how he was doing. Although Ron would never admit it, Harry could tell there was a trace of concern in the letters. The Weasley's were spending the summer at Grimmauld Place, and apparently Sirius's mothers portrait kept mentioning her son's death, saying it was a shame that someone so foolhardy and such a traitor to the purebloods could be a Black.

This made Ron worry about how Harry was taking it, especially since he was so cut off from everyone. So, dutifully, Harry wrote a letter. 

"Come here, girl." he said softly to Hedwig, who was perched on his windowsill. "Go take this to Ron, will you?" She hooted softly, and allowed the letter to be tied onto her talon. 

She sped off into the distance, her white silhouette finally merging with the cloudy sky. Harry heard the phone ring downstairs, closed his door, and settled back on his bed. 

Then, he heard footsteps rushing towards the door. Quickly, he made a mad rush towards the vials of potion, carefully putting them in place underneath the loose floorboards. With only a millisecond to spare, Harry was back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

"GET UP, YOU FREAK!" Uncle Vernon was livid, his purple face turning maroon, and his muscles were tense as he grabbed Harry by the arm. "Guess who was on the phone?" He said, sounding snarky, as he twisted the young wizards shoulder hard enough for it to crack loudly. 

"I don't know. Let go!" Harry said, trying to turn away from both the pain and the fear of what to come. 

"The neighbors. Apparently, they saw an owl flying out of the window, with what looked to be mail attached to its leg!"

Hedwig! Harry began to realize what made his uncle so mad. Uncle Vernon hated magic, and everything to do with it. He was constantly worried that someone would find out about Harry's "abnormality" and judge him on it. 

"That owl is not to go out at all anymore, or I'll wring its neck and yours. I managed to convince the neighbors that you were taking care of a wounded bird, and it probably had escaped, but they'll be watching carefully. You are not to leave this room anymore, and just to make sure, I'm locking you in!"

The large man was true to his word. That very day, he began by putting fitted padlocks on Harry's door, and replacing the bars on his windows. The old cat flap was in use once again, for food to be pushed through. And, as before, Harry was let out twice a day to go to the bathroom and shower. And, in this way, Harry passed many days.

He woke up early one morning, by a tapping on his windows. A big gold barn owl was there, with a roll of parchment sealed with the Hogwarts crest. He opened the window as far as he could with the bars, and the owl was just barely able to squeeze its leg through, offering Harry the thick paper.

Once Harry had it, the owl flew off again. Watching it retreat over the neighbor who had started his imprisonment's house, he was suddenly worried. What if they saw again. Surely they wouldn't believe Vernon's story for a second time, would they?

But, soon enough, he turned his mind to the roll in front of him. Hogwarts didn't normally send their owls this early. Also, besides the dark red wax was the Ministry of Magic's. 

Harry's heart fluttered. These must be his OWL's. Finally, the results. Not that he really remembered anything from the tests. He expected, quite frankly, to fail them all.

He got a total of 8 OWL's, which was pretty good, although no where near the 12 that he was sure Hermione had gotten. He was also eligible for advanced classes in Transfiguration, Charms, DADA, Herbology, and surprisingly Potions. The other classes he had would be dropped from his schedule, though he could take an extra class if he wanted too. Definitely not Divination, Harry thought to himself with a bit of a smirk. 

Divination was sincerely the worst class he'd ever had, including all the classes from his Muggle schools. The whole load was rubbish, from the wacked up teacher, Professor Trelawny, to the lessons, which mainly involved Harry's death, Harry and a lot of pain, and, well, that was about it, really.

"Maybe I'll take Hagrid's class, if I can," Harry thought. It would give him a chance to spend more time with the half-giant teacher, who was a good friend of his. And, despite many peoples objections to the animals studied, they usually were pretty interesting. Except the flobberworms, that is. 

A few days passed by. Then, on a morning similar to the one where Harry received his OWL's, he was awakened once again by postage. Waking up, Harry reflexively reached for his glasses on the bedside table. Putting them on, he looked around the room, and got up to go to the window. But instead, he felt his vision blur, and he could barely stand up. "Is there something wrong with my glasses?" he asked himself, taking them off. Then, he blinked. He could see fine. Odd. Oh well. Harry turned his attention to the window, where Pig was fluttering around excitedly. Why another letter from Ron so soon? Normally there was at least a week or two between them. After a few moments contemplating this, Harry suddenly remembered. It was his birthday. 

He was sixteen! How had he forgotten last night? Normally he liked to stay up to midnight on the eve of his birthday and watch his clock turn. But last night, he was asleep. He had forgotten his own birthday. The Dreamless Sleep Potion worked very well. He turned to the window. Now there were three owls out there. Along with Pig was a large tawny owl, and then a very stately black raven. 

Harry quickly squeezed open the window, Pig managed to get through, package and all, but Harry had to cut the presents from the other owls and let them fly away. Hedwig still hadn't returned, and it had been almost a week and a half. He assumed she'd stayed at Ron's, but now, he missed her. Pig could take his response back to the Weasley's, but he now had no way to communicate with anyone else.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry concentrated on opening the presents, promising he wouldn't start thinking of Sirius again. It seemed that every little moment he was happy, he thought of Sirius and was overcome by the grief again. Harry wondered if he would ever be truly happy again. "Will I be able to ever form a Patronus?" he thought with a sarcastic smirk. 

Anyway, back to the presents. Harry unwrapped the present from Ron. Inside was loads of candy and wizarding sweets, everything from Bernie Botts Every Flavored Beans (Edible Edition, for those with Weak Stomachs!) as the package proclaimed, to heaps of Chocolate Frogs. There was a message along with the mass of sugar. 

__

Harry,

Hope your summers going okay. Don't worry about the Muggles too much, what do they know? Open the Chocolate Frogs first, the guy who sold me them promised that there was a certain wizard inside the card. Mum's been talking to Dumbledore about letting you come here again, but the situation doesn't look all too good. I've told her to tell him that any situation with the Dursleys would be way worse than you'd be here, but don't get your hopes up, mate. 

Happy Birthday!

Ron. 

There was also a note attached, from Fred and George, who had apparently sent it while visiting their family. 

__

To our much beloved private investor-

Undoubtedly you've heard of our success in the business of pranks and gags, much due to your generous contribution. We thank you very much for your support, and, as a show of this tremendous gratitude, we are putting together a care package of our new prototypes and some old favorites. Expect said package soon, and remember, if you do like the merchandise, continue to send money.

Yours gratefully,

Gred and Forge

Harry smiled. Then, rereading Ron's note, looked at the frogs uncertainly, and figured what did he have to lose. He was curious about who the wizard inside would be. So, unwrapping the foil, he grabbed the frog, taking out the card inside the package. 

He was greeted by his own face, staring at him, scar displayed prominently on his forehead. The picture was recent, one of him in his Quidditch robes, flying, and arm stretching for the Snitch. Harry smiled and gave a bit of a cheer when he saw that the picture-version of himself caught the winged orb. It was probably one of the pictures that Colin had taken, Harry thought. The Muggle-born was obsessed with cameras and pictures. And Harry. The two, given Harry's like for privacy didn't work out together very well sometimes.

Harry was rather upset by the card. It once again reminded him that he was to be essential to the Wizarding world, its savior, if you could call it that. But then again, he smirked as he thought of Malfoy, his arch nemesis (other than Voldemort, that is) biting into a candy and seeing his face, scowling up against him. Harry only wished the picture had been of a Slytherin match, and Malfoy could see himself losing in the background. He allowed himself a bit of a chuckle at this, then sobered up.

Saving the candy for later, it was time to unwrap the next present. This was one that the large, unfamiliar owl had brought. He undid the string, and the brown packaging paper fell away. Inside was a small wooden chest. As soon as Harry picked it up, it started to grow. It expanded until it reached about the size of a small suitcase, then stopped. Harry clicked the latches and opened it up. There were glass vials, packets of powders, and flasks of liquid inside, all in custom made indentions on the sides of the box. There was a note, too. Picking it up, Harry could easily identify Hermione's neat and flowing script. It said-

__

Dear Harry,

Thanks for your last letter. Congratulations on the OWL scores! I can't believe you made it in Potions. Snape must've inhaled some Opinion Changing Potion before he graded yours. I'm glad that you've decided to start doing your homework, too. If you start practicing your potions now, then there'll be less chance for him to pick on you this year. If you are taking Advanced Potions, that is. If you do, then you'll be in my class. I got 12 OWL's, although I didn't do nearly as well at Astronomy as I wanted. That was to be expected though. 

Your present is a Home Potions Kit. It includes many standard ingredients, as well as some rarer ones. I've included a recipe for non-addictive sleep potion, that may come in handy for you. I found the kit at a local shop here. I've been learning a lot. The wizarding culture in France is fascinating!

Well, Happy Birthday!

Love from,

Hermione

Harry smiled. Trust his brainy friend to get him a gift that had to do with homework. But still, that non-addictive potion might come in handy when he ran out of his current supply. The rest he'd been getting lately was worth any side effect that it caused. 

He decided to send Hermione a long and appreciative thank you note. Then, he turned to the last piece of mail received, the one that the raven had delivered. Unlike the others, it wasn't a package, rather an envelope. He couldn't tell the sender from the handwriting on the envelope, which was just addressed to "Mr. H. Potter".

Picking it up, his fingers could sense an electric tingle that was definitely magical. Turning it over, he could see there was a wax seal on the back, of two entwined snakes and a drop of something between their heads, but he couldn't recognize it. Although if you looked at it from a certain angle, the burgundy wax made the droplet look like blood, which was, in Harry's opinion, a rather bad sign.

He flicked open the envelope, but there was nothing inside. Rather, a vapor started to come out, and as Harry inhaled it, he began to feel rather nauseous. He felt lighter, though, as if some burden that he'd had on so long that he'd forgotten about it had been lifted. He had to lay down, before he could stop his eyes from seeing double. He sat up. 

"What was that?" He thought. It couldn't have been anything from anyone wishing him harm, because the wards of his blood relatives and also because of the protection Dumbledore had set up, but he was still uneasy. He stood up, and looked in the mirror. He didn't look any different than normal. 

Wondering what the fumes could have been, Harry decided upon writing a letter to Dumbledore. If anyone could explain what had happened, it would be the Headmaster of Hogwarts. But, then, considering the events of last year, Harry realized that he was still pretty mad at the old wizard, for keeping so much hidden from him. But who else did he have to write to?

Not Ron. Ron would be too inquisitive, as would Hermione. And despite how much he trusted his best friends, he couldn't help but want to keep them out of this. If it was dark magic, then it could only be best if as few people as many knew about it. 

Normally, he'd write to Sirius about this sort of thing. But, because of Harry's own stupidity, Sirius was dead. Dead, and never coming back. Remembering this, Harry fought to keep his pain inside of him. The closest thing he had to a father, and it was his fault that he had died. The veil. 

Shaking his head, Harry snapped out of the trance. "Stay in touch with the moment," he repeated in his mind. It had become his mantra whenever he felt like succumbing to tears, and had kept him from sobbing like a child more than once.

But who to write to, then? He thought of the Order, and figured Remeus would probably be the best bet. He was intelligent, but quiet, and Harry could probably trust him to both know the answer and to keep it a secret. So taking out a sheet of parchment and a quill, Harry began to write the letter. 

It basically stated what happened, then asked for advice. Harry then called for Pig. Since the werewolf was staying at Grimmauld place along with Ron, Harry trusted it could deliver both his thank you to Ron, and the letter to Remeus. By this time, it was dark outside, and Harry thought it safe to send Pig out. No one could or would be able to see him. 

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice sounded at the door. It must be time for his nightly bathroom trip. Harry came to the door, and was let out. He walked down the stairs and down the hall, his aunt following him, and then returning to the kitchen. From there, she could tell when the door was opened, give him some supper, and return him to his locked room. 

In the bright light of the bathroom, Harry could see more clearly in the mirror. He took a good look at his reflection, and then did a double take. His mind went blank. He had his customary face and glasses, but his hair must have been three inches longer than it had been only a few hours ago in his room. Not only was it longer, but it was also staying down, something that Harry's hair never did. 

It didn't look bad, actually. "So this is what I'd look like if I didn't have my dad's hair." Harry muttered. Good thing it was dark in the halls, or Aunt Petunia would have definitely noticed. But what could have made it grow so much?

It was probably just accidental magic, like he used to do. Maybe he hadn't preformed a spell in such a long time that his pent up ability had to release. It wouldn't be the first time it had gone out through his hair.

Or, it could be a side effect of his potions. He'd have to read some of his texts on it. Harry smirked at that last thought. He sounded way too much like Hermione than he was comfortable with. He did need to do some research, though.

Leaving the room, Harry stood in the hallway, waiting for his aunt to come. When she did, she shoved some stale bread and a few pieces of browning lettuce at him, then watched him go up to his room. When he was in there and the door closed, she carefully redid the three padlocks, two bolts, and chain. 

On the inside, Harry quickly devoured his "meal" and helped himself to some more of the candy that Ron had sent. Then, he pried up the loose floorboard, and took out one of the three remaining vials. Downing the potion in a gulp, Harry fell into a peaceful sleep. 


	2. Chapter Two

Like Father Like Son

Remus Lupin was sitting at his desk in his room at Grimmauld Place. The summer so far had been quite unbearable, as he kept remembering that he was the last loyal Marauder left alive. James first, then Sirius. The first people who ever really accepted him for being who he was. His best friends. 

And there was also, Lily. He had loved her like the sister that he had never had growing up. She was always there for him to talk to, and their closeness sparked several rumors during their Hogwarts days of how they fancied each other. When James had first heard these, he was furious. He had liked Lily, and it wasn't until they had "grown up," as best as Marauders can, that he had accepted her and Severus as a couple.

But Sirius. James and Sirius were always best friends, and it sometimes had made him feel left out, like a third wheel. But he had other friends, mainly Ravenclaws, so it wasn't so bad for him. Not like Peter. Peter had no one else. No wonder that he was drawn to the dark side when given the opportunity. And now, Sirius was gone. Not to Azkaban, not to his dog form, but dead. Not coming back. 

Remus was brought out of these thoughts by a knock at his door, and he could hear Ronald Weasley's voice addressing him. 

"Um… Professor?" Remus turned his head. It was true, he would be going back to Hogwarts this year to teach. And also, because it was a safe place. The majority of werewolves had decided to join Voldemort, and because he was in the minority that didn't, he was a target for attack.

"Yes, Ron?" 

"Harry sent a letter for you, along with mine." Ron passed the piece of paper to the man. 

"Thank you." Ron nodded, and turned and left. Then, reaching the door, he turned again. 

"Do you think that they're treating him okay?" Remus could hear the concern in the boys voice. It was a question James had asked once, about Sirius returning to his dark, pureblooded family's house.

"I think so. Harry's letters do not suggest any mistreatment, and as long as he is with Lily's family, it will be where he is the safest." 

"Okay, Professor." Then he turned, and left for good. Remus lit a candle, and turned his wandering mind to the paper in front of him. It was dated from two days beforehand. 

__

Remus,

Earlier today, I got a letter, delivered by a raven. I didn't recognize the handwriting or bird, but, because of the wards that Dumbledore has placed on this place, I assumed it couldn't be from anyone intending harm. The letter was addressed to "Mr. H. Potter." When I opened the envelope, but there was nothing inside, just this type of gas or fume came out. I felt really dizzy, but as soon as I lay down the sickness passed. I don't look or feel anything different, but I don't know what it could have been. It's my sixteenth birthday, do you think that had to do with it?

Thanks, 

Harry

Remus was shocked. Harry was sixteen! Of course, this would be his sixth year at school. Why had he forgotten. He was the only one, save Dumbledore who actually knew the truth about Harry, and he had forgotten. The boy always looked and acted so much like James, it was easy to forget about the whole affair. Now, if Remus guessed right, the charms would be coming off, soon. Most might already be gone, if the letter was two days old. He had to go to Dumbledore.

Grabbing the letter and blowing out the candle, Remus ran downstairs, and into the kitchen, where the only fireplace connected to Floo was set up. It had to be guarded at all times, but the communication it provided was vital. Pinching a bit of powder from the jar above the fireplace, Remus nodded at Molly Weasley, who was keeping watch, and threw it in the fireplace. With a "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts", he was gone. 

Approximately three seconds later, he stood in front of the wizards desk. Shaking the ash and soot off his robes, and cursing Anti-Apparatition wards, he watched Dumbledore.

The man was peering intently at the letter that had been shoved in front of his face. 

"Well. It seems as though our Mr. Potter will not be himself for very much longer" Dumbledore said, slowly and surely. 

"I had forgotten he was to be sixteen! The envelope he received must have been the time-released trigger to end the charms. What is going to happen to him?" Remus waited as the old man took off his half moon spectacles and rubbed his eyes.

"I think, it is time for me to have a conversation with Severus."

"Yes," Remus snarled. "One that should have taken place years ago. You know I did not agree with hiding everything from him."

"But it was imperative for both his safety and Harry's. Severus needed to go back to spying, or he would have been tortured by Voldemort, and Harry needed to believe that he was the son of James and Lily. It will be a shock for both of them, however." Dumbledore explained all this in a clear tone, as if it were very simple. As if he was discussing a "lovely tea party" he had just recently attended.

Standing up, the Headmaster left his chair and went over to his bookshelf. Amongst the many leather bound and muggle books that populated the library, he pulled out a wearing paperback copy of "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." Remus just watched as he flipped it to page 84, and tapped his wand twice on the words "White Witch". Appearing out of the book itself came a golden skeleton key, on a silver ribbon.

Dumbledore replaced the book, took the key, and went over to the portrait of an old gray wizard standing in front of a very small house. Standing up on his toes, and even then barely reaching, the Headmaster fit the key into the lock on the door, and pulled the doorknob. The door on the portrait swung open, and Dumbledore reached inside and pulled out a box. Returning to his desk, he placed the box between himself and Remus.

Passing his wand over the box, muttering a few words and incantations, it was several seconds before anything happened. Then, the box opened, creaking slowly with the rust of misuse and the passage of time. Remus gave a start, as he began recognizing several of the objects and documents inside the box. 

"May I?" he asked, gingerly picking up a dusty leather-bound book. Dumbledore nodded his consent, and the werewolf slowly opened it up. Inside were pages and pages of wizarding photographs, all showing the same few people smiling and waving at the camera. There were pictures of Severus and Lily together, hugging and in one instance, kissing passionately. The intensity of the picture, although showing nothing, reminded Remus why wizarding pornography was considered worse than the muggles. The emotions were obvious.

Leafing through the rest of the book, he found pictures of himself, as well as pictures of Harry as a small infant, although they were labeled "Sam". There was even a baby picture, taken what Remus assumed was minutes after his birth. Obviously the charms hadn't been placed on the boy yet, as he had a thinner, more pointed face, and a higher forehead than the picture on the next page. 

"Why so much protection for keepsakes such as these?" Remus asked the nostalgically smiling Dumbledore. The whole process of retrieving and opening the box had taken quite some time for something so harmless as a photo album.

"That is not all that is in the box. I included such personal things to prove to Severus that his relationship did previously exist. There is also a birth certificate, records of the charms placed on Harry, even a page that completely proves he is Professor Snape's son. If this were to be found by someone with malicious intent, the results for Harry could be devastating. Better to keep them needlessly heavily guarded." Dumbledore pulled out the birth certificate. "Sameth Augustus Snape. Severus followed in the family tradition of naming the eldest child after its grandfather. That main branch of the family tree has been alternating Severus and Sameth for years. Still, it does sound better than 'Harry Snape', does it not?" There was a twinkle in the Headmaster's eye as he said the last part.

Remus forcefully chuckled. "It sure does." Then, in a more sober tone, he pressed "Are you going to talk to Severus now? And someone will need to talk to Harry. Soon, because in less than three days, the transformation will be complete."

"Very well, Remus. Why don't you and Moody go and get Harry from his Uncle's, and bring him here, to Hogwarts. Meanwhile, I will go have a discussion with Severus. It would be best if I could break through the old memory charm placed upon him, but time may have rendered that impossible. I know you question why I didn't do this years ago, but I do have my reasons, Remus. Please trust me." Dumbledore looked at him, as if reading his thoughts. 

"I do, sometimes more than I think I should." Remus replied, making Dumbledore smile a bit at the last part. "I'll be going to Grimmauld Place and collecting Moody, then we'll apparate from London to Little Whinging."

"Meanwhile, I will talk to Severus. He must be prepared for this, and its consequences."

The two parted, Remus to the Order Headquarters, and Dumbledore to the dungeons, carrying a worn old box clutched to his side. 

The day before this conversation took place, and the day after his birthday, Harry had began to notice certain changes in himself. His face was more pointed, thinner. He thought it was because he was not getting enough food, that he was losing weight. Which was partly true. But then, as the day progressed, his nose began to change, to twist itself. It became larger, and got a pronounced hook shape to it. 

Actually, he looked quite handsome. The nose was not, as some might see it, a flaw, but it gave personality to his face. His dark hair looked better with his pale complexion, and he looked somehow more formal. His hair was now down to his shoulders and he let it hang down in his face. 

Staring in the mirror, Harry was shocked. He looked more like Snape than his James Potter! His eyes were still that bright emerald green, and with his extremely pale skin (due to lack of sunlight, according to Harry's reasoning), and long dark hair, he looked very Slytherin. When his hair covered his eyes his appearance changed, turned darker, and more mysterious.

"POTTER!" The annual call at his door startled him out of his thoughts as he examined himself in the mirror. Too bad it wasn't magical, and couldn't offer its opinion. Harry went to the door, and waited as Aunt Petunia undid the locks. When the door finally opened, he was met with a very surprised gasp. 

"Who… who are you?" his trembling aunt stuttered, then seemed to regain her composure. "Vernon! Come quickly!"

She backed away from him, as if some unnaturalness from his could jump over to her. Harry heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. His Uncle Vernon turned towards his Aunt. 

"What happened? Did the boy do anything freakish to you?" Then he looked at Harry. "Who the hell are you?"

"It's me, Harry!" Harry could understand their shock, but couldn't help but feel a little awkward in the situation. "I swear it!" His scar was still on his forehead, they should be able to see it. Would that be enough to prove who he still was. He pulled his hair out of the way to show them. 

"You did more… of your _magic._" The last word was whispered, as if the neighbors were in the next room instead of the next house. It was spat out, with disgust that was still evident even at twenty decibels less than normal. 

"No, I swear, I didn't! Honest to God, if I had, they'd be sending me owls!" Harry frantically protested. If his Uncle thought that he'd been performing magic here, then he was in deeper shit than he'd thought. 

"Normal people don't change like that. You've used your freakishness." The accusations burned in Harry's ears. His uncle stepped towards him, fist in the air. Despite seeing this, nothing could prepare Harry for the blows that rained upon him. He was tossed back into his room, but Vernon followed him in there.

"Pack your trunk!" He watched as Harry brought out all of his things, and shoved them into the trunk. His wand, his potions kit, his sweets, and the small sack of money that was to last him until his next trip to Gringotts. His uncle looked greedily at the sack.

"What's in there, boy?" he pointed at the bag, which he probably had heard jangling with the coins.

"Wizard money. It can't be used in the Mug- er, normal world." Harry was desperate. That money was all he had until he could make it to Diagon Alley. He couldn't even call the Knight Bus if it was taken from him. He hoped and prayed that Uncle Vernon wouldn't take it from him.

He had no such luck. 

"Give it here. I can probably sell it somewhere." Vernon grabbed his arm and twisted it, making Harry drop the sack. It spilled onto the floor, gold and silver sliding everywhere.

"You've had all this money, and never given us any? After all we've done for you, food, clothes, shelter, putting up with all your strangeness for all these years, and you had a whole fortune stashed away! Get out of here. Leave my home!" Vernon towered above him, and Harry couldn't do anything but leave.

If he tried to stay and succeeded, his Uncle would make life a living hell for him for the rest of summer, and possibly might not let him return to Hogwarts. If he left, he was at the mercy of whatever dark creatures were waiting for the wards of the house to be broken. Figuring he'd take his chance with what lurked out on Privet Drive over Uncle Vernon, Harry lugged his trunk down the stairs, through the door, and out onto the sidewalk. 

He was stranded alone, in the Muggle world, carrying a trunk filled with spell books, robes, and a broom. The situation seemed vaguely and strangely familiar. Oh, right. The summer before third year. Only now he had no money to pay for the bus, no way to save himself. Then a thought occurred to his mind. Arabella! She was a member of the Order, she could take him to London. Or, he could always Floo somewhere, The Leaky Cauldron, perhaps. 

It was a start, anyways. So he began off down the street, under the burning street lamps. 

He was so unused to walking farther than across his room that he was almost out of breath by the time he reached Mrs. Figg's house. He left his trunk out on the front walk and went up to the porch. The house was dark, but she'd probably gone to bed. Harry knocked on the door. He rang the bell. Nothing. No one was there. He tried to open the door. It was obviously locked, although he could hear several cats meowing on the inside. 

He tried to pry the door open. Then, figuring he had one last shot, he tried to break the lock. After about five minutes attempts, he could feel it give way beneath his fingertips. "Finally!" he thought. Then, when his hard-earned success seemed inevitable, he pushed hard on the door. Where it should have given way there was naught but a strong wooden door. 

Harry looked down to check the lock again. There was a different one there! Of course. The house was certain to be protected, probably by either the Ministry or the Order. Even though Mrs. Figg was a Squib, she had wizards and witches on her side. Harry felt like such a fool for even trying. 

"Well, I can always take a bit of a nap on the porch here." Harry thought, his lids beginning to droop. "Besides, I'm practically unrecognizable now. Even if someone does see me, they won't see Harry Potter, so I'd be okay." Thinking through his options again, his mind feeling very sludgy and uncoordinated, he chose to curl up in the corner of the porch and sleep the night out. Maybe the next day Mrs. Figg would return, or would come to the door, and he could ask for her help then.

Harry went back to the yard, and retrieved his trunk. He pulled it into the corner, and opened it up. Taking out his second to last bottle of potion, he felt his hand slip against something very soft and smooth, feeling like cloth made out of water. Of course! The invisibility cloak! He could sleep under that for even more protection. 

He pulled it tightly around him, curled up into a ball, then drank the vial. His slumber was interrupted, and when he woke up in the morning, the sun was shining brightly, and the warm summer air felt nice against his head. 

He stood up, still under the cloak. Although his trunk was still visible, he figured it'd be okay, as it resembled a box on the porch from a distance. He tried the door again. No luck. What should he do? 

"I'll just wait here. She's got to return home, soon enough." And he waited for hours, occupying his mind by watching the comings and going of the neighbors, the cars driving past, the birds in the sky. There were no owls, though he was looking for them. 

So there he sat, waiting. At the very same time, Remus and Moody had just apparated in front of Number 4 Privet Drive. 

"I hope you're okay, Harry." Remus thought, then knocked on the door. It was answered a short moment later by Petunia Dursley. She looked up at them fearfully, seeming to recognize Remus somehow. They were dressed in Muggle clothes, though, so they shouldn't appear to be wizards to those who didn't know them.

"Yes?" she said sharply, after a milliseconds pause. 

"Excuse us, Mrs. Dursley. We are here to collect a Mr. Potter, whom is currently living here." Moody grumbled, his normal eye focused on her, his magical one peering into the background of the house.

"He's not here." She replied. "He left last night."

"What!?!?" Remus exclaimed. "Where'd he go? Why did he leave? What did you do to him?"

The assault of questions caused the scrawny woman to shudder, and turn her head. Then, seeming to regain some confidence, she turned back towards the two men.

"He looked odd. Not himself, and his hair! Ugh! It just wasn't natural, and Vernon could tell it was his abnormality acting up again. So, he was worried about what that boy could do to our son, Duddy, and told the boy to leave. He packed his things, left us some money for all the trouble he'd caused, and left. Good riddance, I'd say." She finished with a sniff of her nose.

Moody and Remus looked at each other. Remus looked for confirmation of the woman's story. Moody nodded. "She's right about some things, the important ones, anyway. Harry's not here. They don't know where he went."

Remus nodded. Then, the wizards turned and walked back to the street, leaving a confused Petunia Dursley behind them. She turned back into the house, then peered out the blinds at them until they were out of sight.

"Well, this certainly makes things more difficult." Moody said. "Damn muggles kicking him out of the house. Now's he's out here without the protective wards.:

"We could use a tracking spell. But that wouldn't work, not since we don't know his new identity." By the time Remus made this suggestion, the two were walking on the very block where Harry sat watching and staring off into the distance. 

The two remained in silence for a little bit, until Moody stopped. "Potter's got an invisibility cloak, right?"

"Yes, it used to be James's." Remus lost a minute in thought of all the capers that were pulled with the help and largely due to that cloak. "Why?"

"Because he's right there!" Moody started walking toward the house on the corner. "Of course, this is Arabella Figg's house. No wonder he came here. But she's on a mission for Dumbledore. Won't be home for another two weeks."

Harry had noticed the two by this time. He stood up, and removed the cloak. "Moody? Remus?" he asked, questioning.

"Harry. Glad to see you." Remus responded, although inside he was stunned speechless by Harry's new appearance. He honestly did look like Snape's son.

The doubtful look that crossed over Moody's face was not lost on either of them. Harry's expression of happy surprise left him for a minute, and was replaced by a questioning look.

"But, you did recognize me, right?" Uncertainty had crept into his voice, and Remus felt his heart go out towards the boy. Not only was he alone, with a completely different appearance than what he was used to, and had no explanation why, but he also was going to have the shock of his life laid down on him in only a few short hours.

"We'll talk about this later, Harry. These Muggle streets are still not safe for you. Or anyone, really. We'll Floo you to the Order Headquarters, and from there, to Hogwarts. Dumbledore will speak to you, then."

Remus just hoped Dumbledore was telling Severus. The news could be very bad. 

Meanwhile, in the Potions Masters private office/workroom, that was just what Dumbledore was doing.

"Severus, can we have a talk?"

The dark haired man looked up from a book of lessons that he was in the middle of planning.

"Of course, Headmaster. What can I do for you?" His voice silkily went over the words, probably expecting to hear a request for information, or a specific type of potion that needed to be brewed.

"Now, Severus, do you remember when I first brought you to teach here?" The man's expression changed. An explosion rang in is eyes, reliving the past. All there was from his initiation as a Death Eater to the day Dumbledore saved him was a memory of pain. He didn't want to hear what had happened.

"Yes, I remember. You took me first to the Infirmary, then told me I had just been placed under the Cruciatus, and told me of my life that I forgot."

"If you are willing, Severus," Dumbledore paused. Snape noticed and damned dramatic effect in his mind. He was still distraught from the sudden surge of loss. His loss of his memory. "I would like to attempt to remove the memory spell from you."

"But its years old! You know that the spells become harder to remove as time wears on them. This one is particularly strong, too."

"I know. But I have something to tell you that might become easier to bear if you could add to it with your own memories."

"What! What about me?" The thought that the man whom Severus trusted more than anything could have kept a secret from him for fifteen years was horrible. The thought that this secret could change everything was unbearable. But, not knowing would be worse.

"Fine," came the reply, after a break in which he'd thought, and Albus had sat there, twiddling his thumbs. 

"Okay. Now, I would like you to think as hard as possible about the time period during which you have no recollection." Severus closed his eyes, and could feel the Headmaster's hand upon the top of his head. A magical energy flowed into him, and he could hear the other man casting a spell. "_inversio.. cambieament memoria!"_

Severus felt a rush of the magical energy flow throughout him, first in his head, then entering the bloodstream. It gave him an energy but the very next moment, all was black.

Over the next five seconds, he relived the two years that had been gone from his life for so long. He was there, sort of like in a Pensieve, watching himself go through all these emotions, and feelings. The time went by so quick, yet everything was so clear in his mind. After the memories had been relived, Severus took a moment to process all the information, before standing up. Albus was sitting across from him, watching him.

"You hid that from me! They looked as if they were the best times of my life! And, my son. Albus, I have a son! Sameth!", then, as he remembered who the son was, "Holy shit!"

Albus stood, still watching him, but instead of the twinkle usually found in his face, there was a tear this time. A hint of sadness that could not be removed. 

"I'm sorry for hiding this from you. Yes, Harry Potter is your son. I told you what I did that night because I had to. If Voldemort found out that your son was the one who gave him his defeat, then he would most certainly kill you. This was the only way I knew of which to preserve your own life."

"I've been denied my son, for over fifteen years. Not only that, but when I did finally meet him, I was horrible to him! It's not right, Albus. He hates me, and I have no way to explain myself or my actions to him."

"Severus, If you do need anything.."

"No, not right now. I understand that you did what you did because you thought that it was right, but I am still mad at you for hiding this from me. I need to think." He rubbed his eyes, their blackness shining. 

"Very well." Then, Dumbledore set the box on the table. " If you should care to look, I've included some things of yours and Lily's, as well as certain documents. And, before I go, you should know this. Harry is on his way to Hogwarts. He turned sixteen a few days ago, and his appearance is most definitely changed. I've brought him to Hogwarts, so he can meet with you."

Severus nodded dumbly. He now had only a limited time before Harry would be here. He waited for Albus to leave, and then used his wand to blow out all the candles he had to light the room. And in the darkness and the stillness, he wept. For Lily, for James, for his son. 

Then, he rested, and finally, began to look through the box. Each picture brought a smile and a tear from him. There was one that just made his heart break upon. It was a picture of him, and Lily, sitting together. His customary black robes were on, and she was wearing a beautiful green set. They matched her eyes. But that wasn't what made him cry. Sitting there, with them, was a young Harry. He looked like James, although he was still too young for it to be very pronounced. He was smiling up at Severus, and the man was tousling his hair. The newfound memory trip was incredible. 

The only other picture that affected him so much was the young pictured of Sameth, before he became Harry. The little smile, the nose. Snape felt sorry for passing that feature on, but it didn't look so bad on that young child. 

Albus said that the boy would be returning here, to Hogwarts. What would he look like. If the boy was already sixteen, the charms would have worn off. He would truly look like himself.

But he couldn't trust his own emotions. He had to remain calm. His ability to do so was what had saved his life, many times before. There was nothing he could do but wait. And waiting meant thinking. Would the boy want him for a father? He desperately wanted to be there for Harry, but the past 5 years would be hard to erase. 

His memory went back to all the things he had said, how nasty he had been. And the thing was, at the time, he had enjoyed being the cruel, sadistic teacher. That was the worst to admit. 

What would his son think of him now? Of course Severus knew about the prophecy. What would Harry think of him when he realized that his own father served the man he was to destroy. Voldemort could never know of this. 

He could see why Dumbledore had kept it a secret, but that didn't make him any less angry at the man. For years, he had been lied to about the only family he had left alive. Harry, too.

This would take a lot of time to fix. 

__

Well, here's another chapter. Um.. Thanks to the following, who reviewed. 

Kneh13

HermioneGreen

The Vampire Story Hunter

Misao_werewolf

Note- The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a part of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. Also, the reference to the painting in Dumbledore's office is from the Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien. 

Read, and review. Let me know what you think. I enjoy writing these stories, but the feedback from my reviewers help me know how, what, or why things should be changed. Also, if you have any stories of your own that you'd like me to review, I'm always up for a good read. 

Questions or comments can be left in a review, or, for the shy people out there who just don't like to review, you can reach me at _Leuca_2007@hotmail.com__. Thanks!_

~Leuca


	3. Chapter Three

Like Father, Like Son

Harry was disappointed when he reached Grimmauld Place. He wanted to go and say hi to Ron, and perhaps have a bit of a talk about how the professional Quidditch season was coming along. The Wasps were the favorite this year, but Harry had lost all contact with the sport when his summer exile began.

Remus was adamant, however, that they must not see anyone. As soon as Harry was out of the fireplace, he was shoved back in, this time finding himself at Hogwarts. To the side of him was Remus, Moody was nowhere to be found. Harry assumed he'd stayed at the Headquarters. Looking up, in front of him was the familiar face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, Harry. How have you been?" Dumbledore asked smiling, noting the boy's fragile appearance. He held out a bowl of peppermints, and offered them to all the guests. 

"Erm… Fine, Professor." Harry replied vaguely, shaking away the candy with his hand.

Remeus stepped forward, and explained how they had went to Harry's house, and what his Aunt Petunia had said to them. Then, he told of how they had found him outside Arabella Figg's house. By the time he was finished, Dumbledore's smiled was completely gone, in its stead was a stern frown, and a steely glint was in his eye.

"Well, it's a good thing that you'll never have to return to the Dursley's, then, Harry."

At this, Harry looked up, directly into the wizard's face. Not back to the Dursleys? It was like the best late birthday present he could ask for. But, doubt gnawed at his mind like beavers gnaw wood.

"Where will I stay, then? You've said that I have to stay with them, because they're my mum's blood family."

"Well, perhaps for this summer, you can stay here. We'll give you your own rooms, and access to the whole school. And as for next year, we'll come up with something by then."

"Thanks. That'd really be great. Could I also use the Room of Requirement, for.., erm, training, and stuff?" Dumbledore nodded, he understood what Harry needed to prepare himself for.

"Certainly, Harry. Also, I'm sure the teachers here would be glad to help you with any questions you may have. But for right now, I need to have a private discussion with you, a very serious and important one." As the words left his mouth, Remus went to the door. 

"I'll be in the dungeons," he said over his shoulder. Albus nodded, and said to the retreating figure. "Good idea, although I do ask that you be careful in your words and actions." The back of Remus's head nodded, and then disappeared around a corner.

"Well, sir, what do you need to talk to me about?" Harry asked. He was mad at the figure in front of him still, from the end of last term. His voice took on a sarcastic quality. "Is it about how I look? Any more dark secrets about my past you'd like to share? Or maybe I'm turning into Voldemort? What hidden information do you have to tell me?"

"Harry, that will be quite enough." Dumbledore said quietly and calmly. Harry stopped his ranting, but refused to look at the man in front of him again. "I know you are very upset at me, as you have a right to be. And, unfortunately, I do need to talk to you concerning a very important part of your life. I need you to listen to me."

Harry just sat down on the chair that stood before Dumbledore's desk. He knew he was acting childish, but he couldn't stop himself from sulking. It seemed that he didn't know himself anymore, that his whole life was one big secret. And now there was something else that he was going to be told.

"Harry, you see, the days before and after your birth were very dangerous. Times were troubled, as were many people. To trust someone you hadn't known all your life was rare, because no one could tell who was serving the Dark Lord or not. It was in these times, that your mother had a relationship with a Death Eater. He wasn't a bad person, and he quickly turned from the dark, thanks largely due to your mother. But, he also helped me out, and I asked him to return to Voldemort, and spy for me.

Being the person he was, he agreed. However, by this time, he and your mother had fallen very deeply in love. They were married, secretly, and had you. Both of your parents loved you very much, and to protect you, they had to change your identity. When you were around ten months old, your father was called away for several months to Death Eater business.

When he learned that there was to be an attack on your mother, he tried his best to stop the Dark Lord. But, he couldn't. He was attacked by Lucius Malfoy, and placed under the Cruciatus, then had a memory charm on him. He did not remember Lily, nor you at all." 

Here Dumbledore stopped, and watched Harry's reaction. It was, as he had expected, very angry and loud.

"Are you saying that James Potter was a Death Eater? That my father actually supported Voldemort?! That's insane, professor. It can't be true!"

"No," Dumbledore said, softly. "James Potter was never a Death Eater. He was one of the best supporters of the Light side we had back then."

"But… you said that.. how…. I don't understand." Puzzled and confused, Harry's mind tried to work its way around the solution. After a few moments, he looked up, sharply and suddenly. 

"That's right, Harry. James Potter was not your father."

"Who is, then? Is he alive? Why didn't you tell me? God, did he go back to the Dark Side?"

"He is alive, and continues to help me by spying on Voldemort's supporters. You know him, although he is not the man you think him to be. Your father, Harry, is Severus Snape."

"But… then, how… everyone always said I was exactly like James… I was always told how perfect my mother and father, er, James Potter, were…" then, realizing the last little bit of what Dumbledore had said, he shouted "WHAT?"

"It's okay, Harry. You looked like James because you were placed under several charms when you were a child. When you turned sixteen, and received an owl, that began to reverse those changes, which is why, two days later, you resemble your true father more. As for Lily and James together, they were always good friends. They pretended to be married while Lily was actually with Severus, so as to not raise suspicion." 

"If only I hadn't opened that bloody letter." Harry mumbled under his breath, "I wouldn't have changed and none of this would have happened." Then, out loudly enough to be heard, he simply stated-

"I don't believe you. You're a liar. You've lied to me before. Why, in Merlin's name should I ever believe another word you say again?"

"I have proof. Paternity tests, both magical and muggle, as well as a real birth certificate, and a photo album of your mother and Severus when they were younger. I know its difficult, but you are indeed, his son."

"Stop saying that! THIS IS BULLSHIT!" After a few moments pause of thinking, and considering, he asked "Does Snape know? Since he was under the memory charm and all"

Biting back the urge to correct Harry with a "Professor Snape", Dumbledore nodded. "I talked to him just a few hours ago, before you came. I removed the memory charm, and left him in the dungeons to think. I believe Remus went down to talk to him. They were quite close friends years ago, and it has hurt Remus to be at odds with him lately."

"I need to go think, as well. Where should I go with my things?" Harry spoke curtly. It was taking every once of self-control he had not to go and Avada the wizard in front of him. His whole fucking life was a lie. 

"There is an extra room provided for, in the hallway adjacent to the Room of Requirement. Go to the knight in the suit of armor, shake it's hand, and tell it a password. From there on, the room is yours. If you would, please join me for supper tonight in the Great Hall at six. I would like to further talk to you there, and perhaps we can work out a few of these questions. 

Harry nodded. "Yes, Headmaster." Before he went through the door, he did say one thing. "I'm still extremely angry at you, you know."

"Yes, Harry, I know. And I am sorry."

Remus arrived at the dungeon workroom and found it dark, and cold. Lighting a candle, and bringing it inside, he saw the huddled figure of Severus sitting with his eyes closed.

"Severus?" He asked, gently. The man looked to be asleep, but could merely be thinking.

Opening his eyes, Snape saw the werewolf in his doorway. "Remus." I trust you've been informed of this soap-opera drama story. 

"Yes." He moved over to sit next to the quiet and reflective man. "How are you?"

"My life has so completely changed. I do not understand anything anymore. At least when I lived a lie, I knew how things were."

"It's okay. You and Harry both, you'll get through this." Remus placed a reassuring hand on Snape's shoulder. The man felt cold and clammy, even through his robes.

"Harry. God, why did I have to screw things up with Harry? He hates me, now. Is he here? Dumbledore said he'd be arriving soon."

"Yes, Harry is here. He's being told by Dumbledore right now, actually." Remus then told the story of how he and Moody had found Harry for the second time in the two hours since it had happened. 

"Kicked him out? God damn muggles. I always hated Lily's sister. Couldn't believe how such a repulsive thing like her could be related so someone so nice and perfect like Lils. And that boyfriend of hers, the one that she married? Gives a bad name to all muggles." Remus almost smiled as the dark haired man went on. Here was a man who had spoken to the Dark Lord who was feared by the majority of the wizarding world, who had even lied to him. Snape had performed countless dark arts, done unspeakable evil, murdered dozens, if not more, people. And here he was, getting so upset over a boy whom he had hated previously. Severus continued, unbothered by the thoughts in Remeus's head that he naturally couldn't tell. 

""And, the charms were off… What, well, what did he look like?"

Remus did actually begin to laugh this time. 

"He looked like you. Very odd, it was. Well, for one thing, he was taller. A lot taller, actually. He used to be what, five foot seven? He must be at least up to six feet by now. His hairs down to his shoulders, and when we saw him, it hung in his face, so that you couldn't see his scar, which he still has. 

His face is thinner, and more pointed. His complexion's pale, too. That might be from being locked in his room all summer, though." Seeing Severus's face turn to a murderous look, Remus hurriedly went on. "But he's still got Lily's eyes. And…" he trailed off, snorting with laughter.

"And? And what?" Severus took the bait.

"And, he's got your nose."

Snape scowled, bringing his hands to his face. Then, sarcastically, he said. "Now he'll definitely hate me. I thought that this monstrous genetic sin against nature would die with me, too."

All the Snape's were cursed with the nose, as far back as anyone could remember. Fortunately, however, Snape, and now Harry, were the only two left. 

"It's okay, Sev." Remus comforted. "It doesn't look as bad on him." Then, when Snape glared at him, he recognized his poor choice in wording. "Er, I mean, it doesn't look as bad as it… might have. Like, if he still looked like he used to, but had this nose, it would look horrible, really, but since his features changed to look more like you now, then that's okay."

Now Remus was the one who was babbling. Snape couldn't even glare at him anymore, he was in certain danger of bursting out laughing. 

It was a strange feeling for him. He was, he realized, going soft. All these new feelings because of some memories from over a decade and a half ago. Hell, he hadn't even seen or talked to the boy yet. 

He was nervous too. Maybe, he should wait until Harry left Dumbledore's office, and then go have another talk with the Headmaster. To see how Harry had taken it. Or, he would just see the man at the Great Hall for supper. It was tradition in the summer for the staff who remained at Hogwarts to have one meal a month together, and tonight was the scheduled meal for July.

Remus, noting how quiet Snape had become, excused himself, to go back to the main castle. Snape just simply nodded him out, and went back to thinking about what he should, would, or could do. This all became very confusing after a while, and he returned to the box of memento's that Dumbledore had left for him.

Then, after he had allowed himself to wallow in self pity for long enough, he snapped himself out of it. He changed robes, and went up to the Great Hall for supper. 

Remus made his way up from the dungeons to his office, and decided it might be best if he would set things up a bit, and get his plans ready for the next year. The Defense Against the Dark Arts position's "curse" had left many of the students with a very limited knowledge of the curriculum and subject matter. This year's sixth year students would have had a different teacher every year, and most of the teachers had had no idea what they were talking about.

So, after opening up his Floo, and going to Grimmauld Place to get his few belongings, he set up his space, and dove into the work that he needed to do. After a few hours of working very hard, he looked up and noted the time on the clock. The meal would be served in the Great Hall in a few minutes, and he wanted to be there. Finishing the paper he was working on, he left the room.

Harry, after leaving Dumbledore's office, went to the only statue of armor in the hall next to the Room of Requirement. He, as instructed, shook its hand, and checked the hallway around him for people before whispering the word "_hidden" _in Parseltongue. That way, it was protected, as he was the only one in the whole wizarding world, excepting Voldemort, who could speak the language. Other than snakes, of course.

Harry walked in to the room. It was done in a shade of dark blue, with gold and silver accents. There was dark wood doors leading into more rooms. 

There was no house colours, for which he was grateful. He didn't know who he was anymore. Why should he actually belong to a house? Harry found his trunk already in the room. Then, after a short inspection of the main room, which was like a library, bathroom, and bedroom, he left.

He walked only a short distance down the hall, thinking, "I just need a place to get away, where I can let my frustrations out in private."

Then, he opened the door in front of him, and was in the Room of Requirement. This time, it was white, and there were several targets set up against the far wall, which was quite a distance away. The room had expanded. On another of the walls was a couch, and a table in front of it on which there was a cup of tea. 

Feeling the pent up anger making his head ache, Harry grabbed his wand. Standing in front of the first target, he began. "This is for bloody lying to me!" He sent a flame at it. The spell hit dead center.

Harry enjoyed watching it burn. 

Then he moved on to the next one. "This is for sending me to the Dursleys for fifteen fucking years!"

He blew it up. There was a loud explosion, and Harry felt himself be thrown back a little ways, but he quickly regained his footing. He went through the row of targets, destroying each one, giving it a reason. Some injustice done to him by anyone. Dumbledore's name was cursed more than once. 

So was Snape's but Harry couldn't hate him, not really. He had as much idea of the situation as Harry had, because of the memory charms. According to Dumbledore, anyways. Not that he could trust him. Not after all these secrets. Who knew what else was being hidden from him. Maybe he was a vampire. Maybe Lily wasn't his real mother. Maybe he was Voldemort's long lost brother. Who the hell knew?

After about an hour of blasting the targets, Harry was exhausted. He lay down on the couch, and fell asleep for a little while. When he woke up from his short nap, he drank the tea, to calm him down before dinner with Dumbledore. He hoped Remus would be there. He seemed to be the only one that Harry could trust anymore. But then, a thought hit him, suddenly and with as much impact as a speeding train. What if Remus had known, too? 

There was never any mention of a memory charm placed on him. So there was another person whom he had trusted, and lied to him. Did he have anyone, anymore?

What about his friends? He was pretty sure Ron and Hermione didn't know, but would they still want to spend time with him, when they realized that he wasn't "The great Harry Potter" that everyone thought that he was. They wouldn't even have to realize it. They wouldn't even be able to recognize him. 

He was screwed.

He went back to his room to unpack. His robes were definitely way too small now. He had changed a lot. He was taller and last year's school robes would certainly not fit. He was at least half a foot taller than when he last wore them. Fortunately, he was still wearing Dudley's old muggle clothes, which were too big anyways, so it wasn't as noticeable. But his cousin wasn't exactly tall, just round.

He'd ask Dumbledore if he could go to Diagon Alley sometime soon. He still needed to get his books, too, although he hadn't gotten the list yet. They probably wouldn't even be owled for another week.

Owled. The thought brought something back to Harry's mind. Where was Hedwig? Normally she would have come to him. Maybe she was here, but couldn't get to his room? He'd check the school Owlry later. 

Taking out his Potions kit, he decided that he would start on the potion that Hermione had sent him later that night. He snorted. No wonder he was getting better in Potions. He'd inherited his _"father's"_ talent. Would it ever stop being weird to think of his father and see Snape there instead of James Potter?

He put the potion kit up on a shelf in the main room. He was looking at the books on the shelf, and was picking up one to leaf through, when there was a knock at the door. He went over and opened it.

Standing there was Dobby. The little house elf gave a squeak. 

"Harry Potter's come back to Hogwarts!!" The next thing Harry felt was the short Dobby running into him, and giving him a hug. He looked down, and said

"Hi, Dobby." Then, realizing something "How did you recognize me?"

"The great wizard Professor Dumbledore, sir. He told me to come here, and that you'd be here! And, Harry Potter, sir, you still have your scar."

Right. His scar. He'd forgotten that. Well, he might still be able to be picked out in a crowd, but if his hair covered his scar, it would be impossible to see any resemblance. Well, he still had his mothers eyes, and he was glad for that. They reminded him that he was sure of at least one thing.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby was tugging at his shirt. "Dobby is told to come make sure your room is okay. Is there anything Dobby can do for you, Harry Potter?

"No, thanks anyways, Dobby. Actually, I need to go down to the Great Hall to eat. But I'll come visit you in the kitchens soon, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir!"

Harry followed the house elf out the door and passed the suit of armor. The door closed behind him, and the armor had both hands now on its weapon, like it was guarding the door. In a sense, it was.

Harry continued on his way. He turned into the Great Hall just as Remus did, and he went to sit down next to the werewolf. He needed to get a few things straight before talking to Dumbledore again. 

"Harry! How are you?" There was a questioning in his eyes. 

"My whole life's just been changed. How do you think I feel?" Harry felt bad for being so sharp with a friend, but honestly. What could he expect? 'Oh yes, I'm just fine and dandy, thanks for asking. Yourself?' It wasn't going to happen.

Instead. He apologized. 

"Listen, I'm sorry, Remus, but… things have changed, now."

"It's okay, Harry, I understand. I'm just worried about you." 

"I know. I have a question, though." He had to know. If his confidence had been betrayed by Remus, then he didn't know what he'd do. Go crazy, maybe. But everyone seemed to be hiding things from him. He had to know the truth.

"Did you know?" He swallowed hard, waiting for the answer.

"Yes." Remus kept his voice under control, but Harry couldn't. In a louder voice than before, he asked another question.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Harry, I'm sorry. I.. I couldn't. I was under an oath. I just had given my word to keep it secret, and then, you were so much like James that I just, forgot about it. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded. It was better than a direct betrayal, anyways, if Remus had sworn not to tell anyone. He didn't want to get mad. He was tired of being so mad at everyone. It just wasn't fair to himself. Here was a chance for someone who he was comfortable to talk to talk to him, and he wasn't going to let it go by getting mad and ruining it. He had so many questions that he needed answered.

"Did Sirius know?" He had the feeling that his deceased godfather hadn't, because of how he had always treated Snape, but he figured it would be a start, anyways.

"No. He would have been furious, if he had known.. We decided not to tell him because…"

Remus and Harry continued their conversation, oblivious to the two people watching them. The rest of the staff was busy talking and eating, but Severus had just come into the room, and was unnoticed. He saw Harry there, and was so overcome. His son. 

Remus was right. They did look alike. 

He was watching Remus talk to Harry, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he berated himself for jumping. He had to be under control, otherwise his emotions would be obvious to everyone from the Dark Lord to the Minister of Magic. 

Turning around, he acknowledged the man standing behind him.

"Dumbledore."

"Severus. How are you?"

"Everything's changed, Albus. My life is so different. What do you think I feel like?"

"Seve.."

"No, Headmaster, I'm sorry. It' s just that I feel so cheated now, out of a relationship with my only family, and you're the one who took that away from me.

I know it was for my own good, but I still cannot accept that for years you kept such a big secret from me. And Harry."

"I understand, Severus. I only did what I thought was right for both of you. Now, shall we go and eat?"

"Actually, Headmaster, I'm not very hungry, anymore. I think I'll go back to my rooms, and get some work done."

Dumbledore nodded, but there was a smile in his voice that you could hear when he said "You're going to have to face him someday, Severus."

"I know. Just, not today." The last sentence was barely loud enough to hear. 

Dumbledore came up to the table, and sat down next to Harry, who, at this time, was receiving odd looks from the other teachers, but so far, no one had said anything. It was obvious that they didn't know who he was, as his hair was strategically placed over his scar.

It was better like that, the Headmaster thought. If he could get the two together in his office sometime tomorrow, they could work out what would become to Harry. He couldn't stay this way, and remain Harry Potter. The whole wizarding world would come after him. Not to mention all those who believed he alone could save everyone.

"Good evening. Remus, Harry." He spoke softly, so none could hear him.

"Professor, Headmaster." the voices answered. Then, Harry spoke. "Do you mind if I go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, Professor? If I could be given a list of the books I'll need this year, I could go early, when not so many people would be there, and get robes, and money from Gringotts."

Dumbledore considered this. It sounded fair. "Yes, of course you can. But, please come to my office around nine, before you go. I'll give you a Portkey, and"

"No! Well, that is, it would be easier just to Floo." Dumbledore nodded. Harry probably was avoiding Portkeys, since the end of his fourth year. That had obviously played a big part of his past. 

"Okay. You can Floo from my office. It is the only one connected all the time, as we are trying to remain safe here, during these dangerous and dark times."

"Alright, then, Professor. I'm going to go back to my room now, though. I have some work I need to do. Thanks, Remus."

Harry left the table, following the path up to his room. Watching him go, Remus told Dumbledore of his worries for the boy.

"He's just under so much continuous pressure from everyone. First his parents are dead, and he can't remember them. Then, he finds out he's a wizard, and famous for something he doesn't even remember. Next, he's either supposed to kill this wizard, or die himself. Now, he has a parent left alive, and he's been lied to by the people who have been mentors to him for years. I'm just afraid that one day all this will get to him, and he's going to just… explode."

" I know, Remus. But like it or not, the majority of people see that boy as our savior. He has to be prepared for it. As much as I regret doing some of the things that I did, I can't turn back the time and redo it. And if I could, I wouldn't. Because he's still alive and safe, and so is Severus. That's all I can do."

The conversation was ended. Professor McGonagall leaned over and asked the Headmaster about some o f the policy changes taking place this year. 

Harry returned to his room, and got the potion brewing kit and recipe. Then, going to the Room of Requirement, he asked for a lab. When he opened the door, there was a complete replica of the dungeons lab, and Harry started to work. He began by getting out the necessary ingredients. He noticed that he was going to run low on crushed fairy wings, and made a mental note to buy some more tomorrow. Also, he could get more exotic things at the shop.

He spent the next few hours brewing, and waiting, and stirring the cauldron in an outward spiral, as was made clear. Then, he waited about half an hour, spending the time reading over some of his Transfiguration work. It seemed pretty hard at first, but he was not actually having that difficult of a time grasping some of the concepts. He finished up an essay for charms, too, then reread it. If he was to be taking the Advanced classes this year, he would need to pay more attention to his studies.

Then, it was time to check the potion. If brewed correctly, it should be a pale blue, with white steam coming from it. Harry looked at the top of the cauldron first. There was white steam emitting from the brew, so that was a good first sign. 

Then, he looked in the cauldron. The blue was soft, and light, and indicated that it had been made correctly. Harry took out a flask, and filled it with the potion, emptying every last drop. Then, he labeled it, and cleaned up the mess. 

By the time he was in his room, it was passed midnight, and Harry was tired from his day. He was actually still in a daze, and had made the potion out of necessity. Tonight, more than ever, he needed to rest.

__

Well, here's another chapter completed. I'm probably going to be taking some more time getting the next few chapters out, because school will be starting again after the Christmas break. 

Thanks to the following who reviewed-

Arrow Snape

Melissa Jooty

Manicreversed

Starange12106

Felinity- special thanks, for correcting me on a spelling error

Tia

Andromeda Snape-Malfoy

The Vampire Story Hunter

Kneh13

Read and Review!

~Leuca


	4. Chapter Four

Like Father, Like Son

Dumbledore, like always, was wide-awake before any normal person in the castle would ever think of opening their eyes. He wanted to figure out what he would say to Harry and Severus in his forced meeting that they would have today. Harry would be coming to his office at nine, and it was the Headmaster's idea to have Severus be there when he arrived.

There were many important factors to decide upon, such as what Harry should do about his appearance, whether Severus should publicly claim him, and even if the two wanted anything to do with one another at all.

Dumbledore had some ideas, but with the two not trusting him, it might not be accepted, and taken very well.

He sat at his desk, making sure that there were back-ups, and reasoning for every potential flaw in his plan. Then, at half past eight, he called Severus to his office. The man arrived not five minutes later, and Dumbledore began by discussing current Death Eater affairs with the spy.

"Well, he's getting support. He wants as many magical creatures that have been shunned by the ministry for too long, and he's getting them. There's a large werewolf based community, which he has convinced to join him, as I'm certain you already know. He's sent envoys to vampires, and boggarts. His offer to the centaurs was, as you undoubtedly know, thanks to the Forbidden Forest dwellers, not accepted. I don't believe that my lord thought it would be. In any case, he does not seem to mind."

"And what about the giants?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, he's got people over there, trying to convince them. But you know how it is with giants, not for anyone except themselves, and they'll kill they're own kind for personal gain. Hagrids story told us that."

"Yes. It seems that Remus has tried to convince several of the werewolves that he knows not to go over to Lord Voldemort, but with little success. The Ministry has been putting tighter and tighter controls over them for years, and they have been so long treated as a sub-category that many are willing to switch to the Dark if they'll be accepted." Dumbledore sighed. "If only Fudge had believed Harry two years ago, things might be completely differently now.

The select Auror training isn't going very well. He just simply won't let enough people join his programs, and whom else can we get to fight? Remus has been the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've had in years, but this should not be a battle preparation. It should be a school. Still, I'd like it if you could bring some helpful healing potions into your curriculum, and potions that might need to be learned in case of combat."

The conversation went thus, and Albus noticed the time only a minute and a half until nine. He had figured that Harry would be early, and got ready to let him in. Severus, with the practiced eye of one used to watching people's movements, noticed, but did not say anything.

Then, with forty-five seconds left, there was a knock at the door. Dumbledore went and ushered Harry in. When Severus and Harry noticed the other occupant in the room, they both gave Dumbledore glaring, evil looks, and then they both tried to leave.

Dumbledore, of course, had mysteriously foreseen this occurrence, and had locked the door. Snape did try "Alohamora", but it didn't work.

Both father and son resigned themselves to hearing what the Headmaster would have to say. Dumbledore motioned them to the now two chairs in front of his desk. Taking a seat, both edged as close as possible away from each other, noticed their mirror imaging, and them pretended like they hadn't.

Dumbledore suppressed a chuckle. These two men could be so good for each other, if only they'd let them. He began to speak.

"I know neither of you want to face this now, but you both need to talk. In only a few short weeks, the student populace of Hogwarts will be returning. What will they do when they see you, Harry, so closely resemble you, Snape? Like it or not, you are related. We need a cover for this story."

"Well?" said Harry. "Obviously you've trapped us in here to listen to you speak. What ideas do you have, Professor?" the sarcasm was literally dripping from the words as he spoke the last sentence, the "Professor" particularly so.

"Actually, Harry, I do have a few ideas. We cannot replace the charms, so we can let go of any ideas that involve that. What I suggest is this- at the beginning of term; I announce that Harry Potter has been moved from the school in order to receive special training. Most people, now believing that Voldemort is back, will assume it has something to do with that. 

You can owl your friends beforehand, so that they will not be surprised. In the owls, you can also say that you won't be able to mail them, but you will see them soon, hopefully. That should be enough to satisfy their questions.

Meanwhile, not necessarily at the beginning of school, for that would be too coincidental for a bright student, such as Ms. Granger, to overlook, we introduce a new transferred student, Sameth Snape. He will be sorted at the evening meal about two weeks into the first term. It shall be common knowledge that he is your son, in fact, I plan to announce it."

Harry stood up. "No! I mean, eventually my friends will figure it out, not to mention I still have my scar. Plus, do you really think that people will believe I'm _his _son?" He gestured over to the scowling man in the other chair. "There's no way it'd work."

"For once, I actually agree with the boy." Snape chimed in. "People would suspect it once they see that we really have no idea about the other. Frankly, Albus, we need to come up with a different solution."

Dumbledore beamed at them. "Well, all those things are easily taken care of. Harry, your friends, nor anyone else in this school will be able to figure it out. Look at yourself in the mirror. Except for your eyes, and scar, and the obvious age difference, you and Severus could be mistaken nearly for twins!

And, as for those things that might cause some suspect, Harry will have his eye colour changed. Dark brown, and he can tell people, should anyone feel the need to ask, that they're from his mother. And, as for the scar, that is easily taken care of. Why, I almost rid you of it myself years ago. But, we could do a non-permanent Complexion Potion, if you'd like, too.

Now, Severus, about your comment. Of course people would notice if neither of you knew nothing about the either, that's why, from now on, you will be spending at least three hours a week together." Seeing both of them begin to open their moths to protest, he went on. "If you cannot do this voluntarily, I can force you, and I will. Oh, and to start it off, you, Severus, can go with Harry to Diagon Alley today."

It was as if time had been slowed down. For a few seconds, neither said anything. Then, as if he had processed the information just a tad bit slowly, Harry stood up. 

"Listen, Professor. I'll be fine! No one will know or care who I am. There won't be any Hogwarts students there, the lists haven't gone out yet. It'll be fine, I promise."

Severus remained sitting, but he still protested loud and clearly. Then, Dumbledore gave them both a look, and they shut up.

"It will not be perfectly fine, Harry. You still have that scar, and if someone sees you as both Harry Potter and Sameth Snape, your whole cover for the year will be exposed. That is too dangerous for now.

First, I will give you a potion that you can apply to your scar to make it disappear for just over forty-eight hours. I'll also give you the recipe, and you can pick up the ingredients while you are out to brew it yourself." Snape snorted at this, thinking that there was no way in hell the boy in front of him, given his mediocre ability, would be able to brew a concealing potion that powerful.

"Then, you and Severus will go first to your Gringotts vault, and then shopping. I have your lists for your classes here." He handed Harry the two sheets of parchment that would normally be owled to him.

"You do need to stay together. It is still dangerous. Severus, you know how many dark wizards patrol even the safest places. Be on watch."

Dumbledore looked at both of them, and sternly said "You both will do this, and learn to get along. Put your past problems behind you, Harry. Go now to the Infirmary, and get the white cream in a jar labeled 'Concealing Potion 2A'. Madame Pomfrey has not yet returned, so it should be empty.

Apply the cream to your face, where your scar is, then look in the mirror. If the scar is gone, come back here, and if not, mix the jar with water, and then try again. When it does work, come back here. Severus will be waiting."

Harry nodded, yet still scowled at both men as he left. 

The Headmaster turned towards Snape. 

"Now, Severus, we need to figure out what you are going to tell the Dark Lord. Draco Malfoy shall most definitely meet our new student, and report it to his father. You will need to have a story ready."

"I know," Snape said, shortly. "I planned on saying that he has been living with his mother, and attending school out of country. Then, this summer, his mother died, and I was his only left relation. It should be sufficient for the cause, and easily enough faked."

Dumbledore nodded. "That does sound all right. Yes, I believe it will work well. Now, as for your work with Voldemort goes, have there been any new initiations recently? Hogwarts students, or anything?"

Severus shook his head no. "There aren't usually, not during the summer. Usually, right before school begins again all those who wish to be members come to him, and are trained for months, then there is a mass initiation during the Christmas break. You should know that, Headmaster."

"I did. I just wanted to check again. That means that there will be no new Death Eaters at Hogwarts until Christmas. That gives us time to prepare new ward spells."

"Yes, although I don't see the use. Any Hogwarts student is allowed access to the grounds, even if they are servants of the Dark Lord."

"Yes, but that would be what the new wards would protect against. It would be a massive undertaking, every square foot of the grounds covered in protections, runes, and all the old spells again. Plus, we are vulnerable while the spells are being renewed."

"You do forget one thing, Headmaster. If the spells repel Death Eaters, then I can no longer teach here. I won't be able to come on the grounds."

"Ah, yes. Perhaps a different charm, then, against those who… "

The conversation ended then. Harry Potter stood in the doorway, scar gone. It was odd, as if the last part of his old, unique and special identity had been wiped away with some common potion. 

Dumbledore smiled. "Okay, then, Harry. Are you both ready to go?" Tearing out a sheet of paper from a book that was carelessly lying open on his desk, he handed Harry the recipe for the salve.

"Oh, wait!" he cried, before they had gotten near the fireplace. "Harry, your eyes, I nearly forgot. They are to be dark brown, are they not? Well, come here a second." Harry turned around, and impatiently walked towards the Headmaster. If he had to go with Snape, might as well get it done with.

Dumbledore waved his wand in front of Harry's eyes for a bit, then told Harry to close them. When he reopened them, Dumbledore held a mirror up to his face. They fit him, a deep chocolate brown that, in the right lighting, could be mistaken for a black. He looked a lot more like Snape. With a sad thought, he realized that he had just lost the last part of his mother's resemblance in his face. 

Dumbledore nodded, saying "that looks fine, then. Have a good time! Off you go now!"

Then, nearly pushing both of them, he escorted them into the fireplace, and they both found themselves in Diagon Alley before either of them could bail. 

"Very well." Snape… er, the older Snape, said softly. "Shall we go to Gringotts?"

"I guess so." Harry replied, slowly. The two made their way to the white building with little conversation.

Harry went up to the front desk, and gave his key. Looking at it closely, the goblin gave him a knowing look.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Good to see you here." What? Harry wondered. How'd the goblin know that. "We have received word from the accounts of a Mr. Sirius Black that you are to be his heir. Would you care to come to a private room to discuss this?"

Harry nodded. What about Sirius? He and the Professor behind him walked into the room, the short, pointy eared fellow in front, leading the way.

The room they walked into was lavishly decorated in golds and dark yellows. There was a desk made of a deep, rich wood. The goblin sat down, and gestured for the others to do the same.

He rummaged through a drawer, and found a piece of paper. Bringing it out, he started to talk.

"You are, no doubt, aware of the passing of Sirius Black. His final will was found, unbeknownst to the Ministry, and as many of his last request that were being given are being fulfilled. We do not care and meddle much in the affairs of wizarding laws, therefore, we see no problem with doing this.

There was a statement, that said that if he should die without children, all the money in both his private vaults and the Black family vaults should be left to you. Here is a copy of the statement."

Harry read it. It seemed to be written as if Sirius had been the one to write it. He nodded, and handed it back to the goblin.

The goblin had been waiting for him. "Now, your old vault content equaled the sum of just about one thousand five hundred galleons, but too that, there will be added the additional amount of slightly less than five million galleons. Just sign here, and the money will be given over to you."

Harry was numb, and it took him a second to comprehend his actions. He snapped out of the gaze that he had been in, and signed the paper. He was bloody rich! And he didn't even need the money. 'God, Sirius.' Despite how much money he now had, he'd trade every Knut of it for a chance to be with his godfather again. 

Severus was astounded. Who knew that Black had so much money. The Snape family wasn't exactly lacking, and Severus had inherited well over a million galleons, but this was insane! Now, Harry was on level in riches with the Lestranges, and the Parkinsons. He was only another half-million shy of being even with the Malfoy's, too.s

"Now, Mr. Potter, would you like to go down to your vault?"

Harry nodded, and stood up. Shaking the goblin's hand, he thanked him graciously for all that had been done for him.

The goblin led him down to a marble path. Then, they all got on one of the carts, that took them directly down to Harry's vault. Once they got there, Harry got out, and Severus remained in the cart. The goblin, unlocking the vault, opened the door, and stood back, as Harry entered.

It was his old vault, only several hundred times bigger. It was a huge room, and piles and piles of gold and silver were everywhere. Harry went to the nearest pile, and shoved about a hundred galleons into his bag. He was tempted to take more, but decided against it. Then, returning to the cart, they were on their way back up to the surface.

After getting all this money, the father and son went around Diagon Alley, Harry buying his school things, and Severus waiting. Then, Severus motioned to Harry to follow him. He led him into Ollivander's. The wand shop had not changed at all since the last time Harry had been in here.

As soon as they entered the small, musty wand fitting room, Mr. Ollivander stepped out. 

"Ah, Professor Snape," he said, extending his hand. Severus shook it, and then Ollivander turned to Harry. "And young Mr. Snape, formerly Potter. What can I do for you gentlemen?"

Harry was a bit taken aback by the Snape reference. He scowled, and was about to ask how the man had known, but Severus had already begun talking to the man.

"I know usually each person has only one wand, but in this situation, we seem to have two people. Can…can Sameth here be fitted for a new wand for starting his schooling at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly. Although, it would be very helpful for him to keep the old one, as it will come in quite handy some times. Let me go in the back and see what I can find, while he is fitted."

As soon as he had left, Harry turned to Snape. "What was that for?" he hissed, anger emanating from his pores. "I don't need a new wand, my old one is perfect. Plus, where do you even get the right to call me Sameth? My name, as long as possible, is Harry Potter."

Snape, ever resourceful, had been expecting something like this from the boy. "First of all, your wand is far too recognizable. Do you not think Hermione and Ron will notice that there is a new student using the exact same wand as their old friend did, previously? Especially as your wand is the only other one than Voldemort's that has a phoenix tail given by Fawkes. 

Next, as you should when you are in public and private, you probably need to be getting used to being called by your _proper_ name."

His eyes flashed. Sure, he loved his son, even if he didn't know him, but the rash fool had to understand the consequences of his actions. Any mistake could expose both of them, and Harry could be forced to duel Voldemort before he was even remotely ready. That could be disastrous. 

Harry, if possible, got even angrier, and was about to make a loud suggestion for the Potions Master, but, unfortunately, Ollivander picked this most opportune moment to return. He had a large stack of boxes with him, and he, similarly to the last time Harry was here, kept offering them for Harry to try.

He went through the entire stack, but couldn't find anything that worked so perfectly as his current one. Then, exasperated, he asked Ollivander if he could just save the core of his wand, but remake the wooden part?

Ollivander thought about this for a moment, and then invited the two men back into his work shop. It was the first time either of them had been back there, and it was truly an incredible sight.

Wands were everywhere. Hanging from the ceiling, atop shelves, some not even finished yet. There was even a few drawers labeled with things like "Unicorn Hair", "Dragon's Scales", and several large tubes with tags that read "Maple", "Holly", "Oak," and more. There was a large table, also, and Ollivander sat down in front of it.

Taking Harry's wand gently, he cracked a small hole in the end, and pried the two sides apart. Then, the wood loudly cracked, and fell apart, before vanishing in a puff of smoke. It had apparently, disintegrated.

Ollivander then had the wand core exposed. He, using a golden pair of pinchers, took it out, and left it sitting on the table. He then went to a tube labeled "Holly, 8 inches", and brought out a piece of the wood. 

He cracked it open, only this time, the wood remained. He, again using a very light touch, picked up the core, and placed it into its new house.

Then, using spells and a type of glue, he resealed the wood, and polished it. Then, holding it into the light to see it's perfection, he handed it back to Harry, who had been watching the whole thing with a curiosity. 

Harry grasped it in his fingertips. The wand was a little lighter, but the warmth in his hand felt the same. He waved it a bit, and when the silver and gold sparks came out, he was happy. 

Ollivander watched him, a satisfied look on his face, his eyes peering intently on the wand. "It went better than expected. It is sometimes difficult to replant the core's, because they become so a part of the old shell." Harry paid five galleons for the wand, and they left the store, Mr. Ollivander going back to the work room, saying as he left, "Take good care of that wand, it will be very important for you, Mr. Snape."

Then, Harry and Severus were back again on the street. The magical feeling of watching a craftsmen do his work was gone. 

After having gone to Madam Malkins and Flourish and Blotts, they were almost finished with their shopping, the last place being the Apocethery. 

Going in, they immediately split up. Harry first searching for a few more of his sleep potion ingredients, and also the ingredients used to make the concealing salve for his face.

Severus, on the other hand, was talking to the manager about ordering large quantities of basic materials for the school's supply. 

Harry also found several rare ingredients to purchase. They were quite expensive, but well worth the cost. Among several other things, he chose out some chopped black widow spider legs, pinchers from the feet of Appalachian fire-crabs, as well as some phoenix tears. Each came in its own separate vials and packets, that would fit into his brewing suitcase well. After picking all this out, Harry went to the back of his store to pay, and found Severus waiting for him. In the end, his purchases cost nearly twenty-five galleons. His opinion was that they were worth it, though. 

Snape said nothing, merely raised a few eyebrows about the types of ingredients selected. He himself had picked up some Dragon blood, and other Dragon related powders and claws. He had planned a section on the uses of Dragon potions, how, why, and a brief history for the Advance Potions students. 

He wondered how well Harry could actually brew, if he was buying these types of ingredients. He noticed the sleeping potion ingredients right away, wondering where Harry had stumbled upon that old recipe. It was rarely in use anymore, replaced by an easier brew and forgotten.

Both laden down with more shopping bags than teenage girls at a mall, they used the Apocathary's Floo to get back to Hogwarts. At the end of the day, Harry had spent about half of his money, and reminded himself to be careful with what he had left. It would have to last all the rest of the school year.

By the time they were back at the castle, they had only had one fight, and that was at Ollivander's. Of course, they hadn't had any real conversation either, but it was a start. Harry felt indignant. He was tired of this fakeness, and then he remembered that this, Sameth Snape person, was who he was to become. It was painful.

Harry went back to his room, and found a package on his bed. He looked around the room, and saw Hedwig sitting on a perch by the room's only window. 

"Hey, girl." he said, petting her soft and soothingly. "I missed you. What did you bring me?"

He fed her an owl treat from his trunk, then turned to the package. Opening it up, there was a big box filled with numerous sweets, containers, and other things like that. He didn't eat anything, though. It, after all, might be the care package that Gred and Forge had said they would send. After reading a short note, that explained what everything was, he decided that some of these things could come in very useful this year.

He placed the box under his bed, with a reminder to himself to show Ron some of this awesome stuff. He couldn't wait to see the Weasley's expression when..

Harry stopped his thoughts dead in their tracks. He would never see Ron again, at least, not as himself. Not until the war was over and Voldemort defeated, anyways. Harry, Sameth, whoever he was, was more lonesome than he had ever been in his life. 

Hedwig hooted softly, to comfort him, then flew to the bed, sitting next to him. He stroked her, trying to ease the pain. "At least I'll always have you, girl."

He stayed there for the rest of the day, and well into the night.

Hermione Granger was excited. She had just returned from a wonderful vacation in France, had several new books to dive into, and was looking forward to her second from last year at school. 

She didn't want to start any new books yet, however, and instead decided upon writing to Harry, whom she hadn't heard from for a while. She was glad that he'd liked her present, though. She was afraid that he would have thought it too educational to be of any use. 

So, sitting down a table, and turning on a small lamp she began to write. Maybe, he' d be able to meet her in Diagon Alley when she went in two weeks. They'd be sure to have the letters by then. After all, they'd already gotten their owl scores. 

Maybe Ron would be able to come, too. She hadn't seen him since Platform Nine and Three Quarters, nearly two months ago. He was spending the time with his family at Grimmauld Place, he'd told her in his infrequent, short letters. He was corresponding with Harry, too, he'd told her.

It would be great to see everyone again, she thought. In these dark times, the only people you could count on were your friends. Thinking thus, she sat down to write.

Severus Snape was busily organizing his private stock room. Working making potions for both sides kept him busy, and he hadn't had a chance to clean up in a while. It was tedious work, however, and his mind kept slipping back to the afternoon out with Harry.

The only time that they'd ever really talked was when Harry had refused his name. It had hurt more than he'd let show, mainly because he was used to doing so. When Voldemort put the Cruciatus on you, you didn't make a big deal about the pain. You took it, or else he'd think you weak and kill you. 

Severus was good at masking his emotions. It was reflex this afternoon, that had started and prolonged that fight. He mentally berated himself for being such a jackass all the time. 

Maybe, if he tried to be more open and understanding with Harry, he'd be more accepting. 

He couldn't even think about it without smirking. Himself? Open and Understanding? It was a laugh. He was a cold-blooded murderer who enjoyed letting the pain and frustration flow through his wand into his victims bodies. Yet, at the same time, he cowered behind a man, and a mask. 

He was a horrible person, going straight to hell as soon as his reflexes weren't quick enough. He couldn't afford to become this weak over some old memories and a pathetic boy. If Harry didn't want to be his son, that would be perfectly fine.

But… he couldn't be that cruel hearted, could he? Once upon a time, many, many years ago, he had loved Lily. And no matter how either one regretted it, they were family.

He had to be given at least a shot. Harry was a wonderful person, he was sure. He wanted to be his family, his father. Both of them were just not used to having someone be there. They were both loners, he would admit that. 

That was what had gotten him in front of the Dark Lord for, anyway. Rubbing his mark, he could remember the day he was initiated. 

"Severus Snape. Why do you wish to serve me, to be one of my followers?"

He had truthfully answered. "You are great, my Lord. The power you have now, while still strong and commanding, is nothing compared to what you will achieve. You will be the greatest. my Lord, and the only thing that matters is power. I wish to offer you my services, in helping erase the muggle and Mudblood scum from this earth, and erecting a powerful new leader such as yourself."

The response had tickled Voldemort's fancy. He was still human at that point, and someone, kneeling before him, feeding him such pitiful lines about his power was just the thing that he liked to year. Yes, the Dark Lord was a vain, powerful, handsome man back then. No wonder people were drawn to him, even those with no family history of the Dark. He had been nowhere near the demented, half snake he was now, with all his tricks and games. 

But he was still powerful. Still more powerful than any single person on Dumbledore's side. After all, the hero Harry Potter, was only a underage, not fully trained wizard, who had managed to get 8 OWLS. 

__

Well? What did you think? There was a bit more Harry/ Snape interaction there. A bit more. Sorry this chapter took so much longer to get out, but, like I said, school started again, and I have stuff pretty much every night. I'm going to try and get another one out this weekend, though. Or at least start on one. I'm not really used to making my chapters anything over three thousand words.

Anyways, thanks to all those who reviewed. Such wonderful people!

Also, for those who don't want to review, you can always email me. It's _Leuca_2007@hotmail.com__ Or, if you have a story of yours that you'd like me to read and review, just mention it. I love reading anything new and interesting. Especially dark stories. The absolutely wonderful Never Turn Back by Harmony Slytherin is spectacular. I recommend everyone go and read it now. _

Well, thanks everyone! Special thanks and hugs go to the following- 

Xyverz

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Prophetess of Hearts

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S.P.E.W. rules

Kateril


	5. Chapter Five

Like Father, Like Son

Harry awoke the next morning feeling much better than when he had fallen asleep. He had come to a decision last night, about what he should do regarding Snape… er, his father.

It wasn't really his fault, Harry thought. He had been under a memory charm, and was only doing what Dumbledore had told him to. So, while rather shocked and disgusted that he was actually a Snape, he couldn't really blame the guy. But, he could be mad at his Headmaster, and that sounded fine to his ears. 

Harry really wasn't much for grudges, but in this instance, he felt that he had a right to be. Out of nowhere, this man comes, and within the course of a few months, springs two enormously shocking surprises on him. It just wasn't fair for him to be lied to, not now that he knew at least the partial truth.

So he would try to get along with Snape. And, he guessed that yesterday during their fight in Ollivander's, the Potions Master had been right. He really did need to start getting used to being called Sameth. It was rather odd, though, even for the Wizarding World. Maybe he could get it to be shortened to Sam?

At least, during the school year.

Today, Harry decided, while stretching, he needed to train. He could go to the Room of Requirement after a small breakfast in the kitchens (after all, he had promised to go see Dobby), and a shower. 

He did the latter first, and went into the bathroom.

Snape was up early, after a night of searching. He had decided not to press so much on the boy, but wait and follow his reactions to the situation. The two needed a serious talk, though, soon. Somewhere private. Dumbledore's required time together would be a perfect time. 

They were to meet again in three days. The Headmaster had started up a schedule for the two, so that there would not be any conflicts in timing. 

Severus finished up organizing the supply room, a task which he had forgotten about last night, while he was thinking. Then, he felt like going somewhere a little more cozy than his cold, unfeeling rooms. He remembered this place that Dumbledore had told him about, where he could go if he ever needed a place of his own.

Dumbledore had stumbled on it one night, and it had been filled with chamber pots. Severus had been in there before, himself, one night, many years ago, but like many other late-night wandering students, he had seen it as a broom cupboard, where he was safe from the caretaker.

All you had to do was walk past the door, and think of what you needed. Then, if you opened it up, you'd be in a place to suit those needs. Apparently, the Founding Four were quite the creative bunch, as Severus had not heard of anything like this before.

So he walked up to the hallway, and thought

"_A place where I can work things out within myself. Somewhere calm, and comfortable"_

When he opened the door, he wasn't quite sure to expect. What he did see, however was far from anything he'd ever thought.

Harry was in there! He hadn't apparently noticed that Severus had entered, and the Death Eater used his training well to remain that way.

He entered the room, closing the door. Harry was oblivious. He was deeply engrossed in a book. He was sitting on a white, creamy couch, and there were bookshelves surrounding him. Then, father on, there was a wide open blank space, with a table at the far end.

Harry shut the book, and marked his place. Then, standing up, he went to the other side of the room, where it was open and empty. Placing what appeared to be a stuffed bird on the table, he turned to it, and muttered a few words. 

Severus, from where he was standing at the door, could not hear exactly what he said, but got the basic meaning of it when the bird came to life, and began to fly around. 

It was a reanimation spell! It bound together the fibers of an existing creatures past spirit, and brought it back to the earth for a short time. It was only used on animals, and part-humans, like werewolves or vampires. It didn't really work on humans, except bring their bodies, not their sprits back. And, as the bodies lasted only a few minutes at best, they were ineffective for most dark uses. It still was nevertheless very strong, potent magic.

It was necromancy. Severus was greatly impressed with Harry's abilities. Not even most supporters of the Dark Arts could do even the simplest spells in this field, nor would want to.

Harry must be practicing for battle.

He had been watching too long, Severus realized. His mind was starting to wander, which was never good when one was trying not to be noticed. It was a miracle that the boy had been so engrossed in his work that he hadn't yet noticed him.

Severus decided to make his presence known.

"Harry?" he asked. 

Harry spun around at his voice. He'd never been interrupted in here without inviting the people first. The he turned and saw Severus.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He felt like his privacy had been intruded.

"I was just looking for a quiet place." Severus answered. "I guess the room does not work for more than one person individually at a time."

"Yeah." Harry looked rather put off by having the man here, but couldn't quite figure out how to broach the subject. He opted instead for silence.

"Was that… necromancy?" Snape asked, still disbelieving what he had seen.

"Umm, yeah, actually. I've been training for, well, I've been training, and it just seemed right to pick up a bit of the darker stuff, as well."

"I see. Have you continued your Occlemency lessons at all, too?" Snape's memory in the Pensieve hung rather tediously in the air for a minute, before Harry replied.

"Actually, I have. Before bed, to prevent anything." Harry fidgeted nervously. "I did mean to apologize, for snooping, Professor. I shouldn't have looked into your past like that."

Snape blinked. That was unexpected. Harry was actually initiating a conversation. With him. 

"It's okay, Harry." was all that he could softly say. Then, an idea came to mind. "As long as you are preparing, why don't we work on a short lesson, now?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. Sure, Snape had been trying yesterday at Diagon Alley to be nice, but he didn't really think that he'd ever get used to hearing his old, greasy git of a professor be kind. And he was actually offering to help him?

"Er. Okay."

Then, all of a sudden, there was a presence in his mind. Something that was not right, digging into his brain. Memory upon memory came up to the surface, and it was he could do to clear those away before more came. He couldn't concentrate to attack back, to fend this intruder off.

Scenes were now flashing before his eyes. He was back in the cupboard underneath the stairs at the Dursleys, spiders crawling bravely across his mattress, Aunt Petunia screaming at him from the door to make breakfast.

Then, before he could fully comprehend that one, there was another image. He was at school, on top the roof, a crowd of children below, staring and making fun of him. 

Another memory. Uncle Vernon coming at him this summer, yelling at him for being a freak. He was being punched, hard, slapped across the face, punched hard in the stomach.

This time, he reacted. He had tried so hard to forget, and now, that event, not even a full two weeks passed, had crept up on him and he was hit with the full blunt of it. He nearly broke down, but instead, in another, safe part of his mind, recalled what he had been taught. 

He screamed, and shouted a banishing charm. The thoughts were gone, and Harry was there, pressing back hard in his mind against the unknown presence. 

He was gaining back land in his mind. Then, finally, he was free of the unnatural sensation, and he turned his mind to the present. He opened his eyes, which, he hadn't realized, had been closed. 

Laying on the floor in front of him, silently, was Professor Snape.

Harry went over to him, felt his face. He was breathing rapidly. After a moment or two, his eyes fluttered, and opened.

"Harry?" he said, as loud as he could, which, wasn't all that audible.

"Yes, sir?" Harry said, helping him as he stood up. The "sir" sounded funny to his own ears, but what else was there to call the man? Severus and father were way too intimate, and Snape was too formal. 

"That was, by far, the best you've ever been at expelling me from your mind. Excellent work."

Harry couldn't help but feel pleased with himself after this, although he tried not to show it. 

"Are you okay, sir?" Snape nodded his head yes. "What made you fall, then?" 

"It was the force of your banishing spell. Not only did you use it in your body, as would have been sufficient, but you screamed it in your mind. The force alone was enough to knock me out for a few seconds there." Snape took a seat at one of the couches, Harry in a chair across from him.

"May I, Harry, ask you a question about one of the memories?" his voice was tentative, unsure if he was overstepping his boundaries or not. 

Harry considered for a moment. It was, after all, fair. He had taken a secret look at Snape's personal history before, too.

He nodded, not wanting to speak.

"Was that… when your Uncle was hitting you… this summer?" Severus winced as the words came out. 'What a great thing', he thought in his mind, 'bring up the boy's obviously troubled past just when you are having a nice conversation with him. Real smart.'

Once again, Harry nodded. This time, he couldn't speak.

"Then, that must have been less than two weeks ago! Do you still have any bruises?" Snape knew this was way past the boundary, but he had to know. God damn it, this was his son, and he had been hurt. If only he had known… Well, things would have turned out differently.

Harry looked at him, then shook his head. "I made a healing potion, this morning." He explained. "I didn't want to first use my new wand on my body without really testing it, first."

Severus agreed. Although everything seemed fine with the new Ollivander creation, things still could be off. 

They were both silent for a while, the all-too-familiar heavy air settling over them. Then, Harry stood up.

"Do you want to duel?" The invitation surprised Severus. It was a friendly gesture. Harry needed to practice, and he was asking his father to help him. 

Severus nodded. "Okay."

The two spent the next hour pacing back and forth across the room. Severus, at first, held back, unaware of the boy's skill level. But he had proven himself a worthy opponent for someone his age, although he would have to definitely work harder if he wanted to be an Auror, as it was commonly believed he would.

His defense was the best. His return spells needed to be worked on. He could properly defend himself from most things sent his way, but as for return curses, he was particularly struggling to keep up. He would have to practice and learn new ones.

Eventually, both of them stopped fighting. Harry was still full of energy, but Severus needed a break, particularly after his fall earlier. Neither again said anything, until Severus decided he needed to go back down to his rooms and work a bit.

"Well, Harry, thank you. Continue to practice Occlemency at night, and study some return curses. You know how to properly keep yourself safe, but you also need to learn to do damage. How about, instead of meeting as Dumbledore proposed, in the dungeons next Saturday, we meet here. We could work on brewing some potions, since you seem to have picked up a knack for it."

"Okay, Professor." Harry returned to his book, as Severus left. 

Harry was confused. He had been hating his teacher, then today happened, and they were actually getting along. In fact, Harry felt as if he knew the man better from fighting him than he could have for talking to him for that long.

It was strange. He was still very upset, but most of that anger was redirected towards Dumbledore. He sat down. He could get used to being his father's son, especially if he had to act the part. 

And, when Snape had inquired about his beating, it had felt, almost nice. Despite the Professor's attempt to hide his concern, his eyes, and voice had betrayed him. He couldn't help but feel a little happier at this. Someone, actually worrying about him, wanting to protect him. Not just someone. His father.

He was actually looking forward to brewing potions. Normally, he dreaded Potions class, but something told him that this would be very different.

Severus made it down the hallway before actually processing the information. It was one of the tricks he had picked up as a Death Eater. Get out of danger, then think about it.

He had actually had spent time with his son, and felt glad about it. He was proud of the boy. He obviously had talent. Watching him, seeing him look and act so much like him, was a sensation that he'd never get used to. He didn't want to get used to it, it was such a nice feeling. 

And Harry had actually agreed to meet with him again. He was putting forth an effort. But, why? Perhaps he wasn't the only one thinking intently last night. Maybe Harry had come to some revelations of his own. He could only hope. 

Severus went back to his office. He had just entered when he found the second unexpected person in a room for that day. Awaiting his return was Remus Lupin.

"Hello." Snape greeted the man cordially.

"Severus. How are you?" 

"I'm all right. You?"

"Good. The full moon approaches, in about a week. Which is why I am here to see you. Can you make me a Wolfsbane potion?"

"For a week from now? Yes, I should be able to." Severus thought quickly. The Wolfsbane potion was difficult to brew, even for one as experienced as himself. But it wasn't impossible. A week should give him sufficient time.

"Have you… talked to Harry, yet?" Remus asked, timidly. The shy werewolf hadn't wanted to intrude on the two's relationship, but he was concerned for both of the Snapes.

"Yes, actually, we just spent an hour dueling." Severus answered nonchalantly. 

"What? You were fighting? Surely that is not advisable! Did Dumbledore know?" 

"Calm down, Remus. It was his idea. He needed to practice, he said, so we worked through a few things. We didn't even argue. It was quite the experience."

"It definitely sounds like it, Severus. I am glad, though, that the two of you are communicating. School starts in another three weeks. You'll need to know each other fairly well by then."

The Potion's Master's face got a rather sarcastic expression. "You didn't hear? The Headmaster," this word he nearly spat, "has decided that after keeping us apart for so long, we must have required time spent together each week."

Remus bemusedly asked "Did he really?" Then, on a more serious note, "Don't be bitter at Dumbledore, Severus. You know he only means for what is best for everyone. He can't be perfect all the time."

Severus responded vaguely, then changed the subject. The two were talking like old friends, which they were, when Severus sat up like a shot. He hurriedly rushed into the other room, grabbed his cloak, and left.

Remus began to run after him. "Where are you going, Sev?"

"I have business to attend to." Grabbing his arm, he raced to the main Hogwarts exit, and out of Remus's sight. 

Remus picked up his things, and left the room. He wandered around a bit, and then went to Dumbledore's office. 

Dumbledore was in there, by himself. He welcomed Remus in, and the two talked for a bit, and Remus told Dumbledore what Severus had done.

"Ah, yes. He's been summoned. I expected that to be happening soon."

Remus looked troubled. "Do you think he's safe? I worry about him, returning to spying. It could be disastrous for both of them, Severus and Harry, if he should be caught."

Dumbledore sighed. "He has to go back. His scar provides Voldemort with the link to him, and with it, he can cause excruciating pain, and torture, without being in the same place. Has Severus ever told you what it is like to be summoned?"

"No." 

"It is a modified Cruciatus curse. It causes just as much pain, but lets the user retain some strength, so they may Apparate to him."

Remus was shocked. He had no idea that Snape suffered so much for his job, and for his loyalties. Even later, when he was alone, he kept thinking about that conversation. Severus was too brave, risking all for his side.

He should've been a Gryffindor.

Snape ran out through the grounds, until he had reached the boundary. He was in so much pain, but he kept up his stride. He was used to this. As soon as he reached the border of Hogwarts land, he apparated. The mark made sure he got where he was supposed to. 

He arrived at an old abandoned church graveyard, just in time to hear the bells chime two. He was on the top of the hill. Severus made sure to note his surroundings. The geography of an area was important to any smart Death Eater. 

He waited. Then, he was greeted by two men, whom he knew very well. One was Malfoy, the other Lestrange. They led him down a path, into a dark wooded area at the bottom of a hill. Then, there was a clearing. As Snape stepped into the circle, and brought up his hood, he could feel the presence of Voldemort.

He kept his mind neutral. The Dark Lord was an expert at Legilems, and could easily pry into his mind if it was left unprotected.

"Severus." the hooded Lord Voldemort said, motioning forward his servant. When he was directly in front of the Dark Lord, Snape knelt down, until he was nearly eye level with the snake that always traveled with Voldemort.

He kissed the hem of his lord's robe. Then, standing up, he slowly backed into place among the circle.

"Severus, you are here today to be inquired into about your whereabouts yesterday." Voldemort said very eloquently, with an air of dignity and ease.

At least he wasn't mad. 

"Yesterday, my Lord? I was at Hogwarts, and then in the afternoon went to Diagon Alley." Severus said with another bow.

"And who, may we ask, were you accompanied by?" 

"My… my son, my Lord." whispers went up around the circle. Voldemort hushed them all with a lazy wave of his hand.

"A son, Severus? I believe that this is the first that I've heard of him." the Dark Lord questioned, obviously curious. He had heard that Severus had been out the day before, with a boy who looked exactly like him. His source? Lucius Malfoy.

"He has been living with his mother. This is the first time in years that I have seen him. His mother, a pureblooded witch, recently died, and I am the only family he has left." Severus hoped the explanation would suffice. 

"How does he feel about… your involvement with our group?" Severus knew where this was headed. The Death Eater's had always been what you would call a "family oriented" group. 

They had always tried to get the sons of former Death Eaters, or dark supporters of Grindawald to join. They figured that if the child had been raised in a dark atmosphere, he was more likely to be sympathetic to the cause. And, hate mudbloods.

"He does not yet know, my Lord. But, I would expect him to be quite willing to follow. I was unaware of his mother's sentiments." 

"As you know, there will be the beginning of training for our new recruits. Perhaps you could convince him to join, Severus?"

"I will try my best, my Lord."

Then, Voldemort turned to other business, finishing the meeting as he normally would. Severus stood perfectly still, not letting his heart beat. This would certainly change things.

Dumbledore must be informed right away. They were now after his son, if you thought of it like that. Sameth would be too dangerous, though, if around these people, considering his past. But there would have to be an excuse made.

Plus, no doubt Draco Malfoy would be watching him all year. It would just be so hard, to work things out. When he got back to the castle, he'd have to have a talk with both his son and Dumbledore.

The meeting was adjourned. Severus was back into the folds of the Death Eater community. He had missed the first meeting, at the end of Harry's fourth year, and had been labouring since to prove himself worthy.

He returned to outside Hogwarts grounds, then stepped through. He was lucky. Today, the Dark Lord had not felt like using any curses. No Cruciatus, not even a simple pain inflicting curse. It was suspicious. The Dark Lord had seemed preoccupied, really. Like he was just having a meeting to take his mind off of a plan he had.

He went into the castle, and then back to the Room of Requirements, hoping Harry might possibly still be there. He wasn't, so he headed up to Dumbledore's office.

There, both Harry and Dumbledore were, speaking about something. He could hear their voices from below. He knocked on the door. The Headmaster had taken off his password guarded door for the summer break, making it easier for the staff to contact him. 

He entered the room. Dumbledore looked up, and Harry turned around to face him.

"Ah, Severus. Glad to see you are back. Remus said that you had to leave suddenly, on urgent business."

"Yes, Headmaster. I was summoned to a meeting." Harry gaped. "The Dark Lord has found out that I have a son. We were seen yesterday at Diagon Alley."

"What?!? What did he say to you?" Harry's voice rang in, surprising Severus. Hell, the boy even sounded like him.

"He wants me to try and persuade you to become a Death Eater. He asked what your feeling were on our "organization." I told him that I didn't know, as you had been living with your mother, but that she was a pureblood.

No matter what I end up telling him, this year, you'll be watched Harry. I won't tell him that you are against him, then he'll become angry, and even order your death. If not by me, he can arrange it through the dozens of other new Death Eaters, begging to show him that they are truly his subjects. And we cannot allow that to happen."

Dumbledore nodded. Harry was looking extremely nervous. Severus couldn't blame him, it was a very terrifying situation. 

"Well, what options do we have?" Harry wanted to know the truth. 

Severus didn't say anything, looking pointedly at Dumbledore. "Well," the Headmaster began. "We have a possibility of three choices. 

One. Severus tells Voldemort that you are not a supporter of the Dark side. You become an enemy to him, and you will be targeted, and, so will Severus, for failing to bring you to the Dark Lord.

Two. You remain ambiguous. Severus reports that you are not opposed to joining him, but would wish to finish your education, and work on your skills first. This would not work very well, as the average initiation is made during the winter of sixth year, and Voldemort does not like to make special circumstances for anyone. He would also probably catch on quickly, and once again, both you and Severus would be under a threat."

Here he paused, and thought. Severus cut it. "The third option? Surely it cannot be to…"

"Yes, Severus." Dumbledore brought his voice up again. "He joins the Death Eaters, and becomes our second spy."

"What!?" Severus was speaking softly, but the passion in his tone was unmistakable. 

"Dumbledore. This is Harry Potter we are talking about here. If he joins Voldemort, he will be even closer to threat. He will have to begin training, and… it just won't work. I won't see him end up like me!"

Harry had been quiet. "But, sir," he said, addressing Severus. "They won't know it's me. I'll be Sameth Snape, too them, and it would be perfectly normal for the son of a current Death Eater to join. It is the only explanation that won't result in suspicion or death."

"What are you saying, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Will you do this? Will you become another spy. It is not a decision to make lightly. Think on it for another day. Return to me tomorrow with your answer."

Harry nodded, and left. Severus had the feeling that he would be returning to the Room of Requirement to do some serious brain-wracking. 

"Dumbledore! How can we put him in danger? It is absurd! If he gets killed or injured, the whole chance of defeating Voldemort is gone, forever. Do not forget about the Prophecy!"

"I cannot make him do this, Severus." Dumbledore's voice was heavy with age, bearing down with years of wisdom. "But, it is the only plausible chance we have. Besides, no one will know where the real Harry Potter is."

"But, won't they suspect him? It is rather coincidental, is it not? Harry disappearing at the same time Sameth appears?"

"We will say Harry left during the summer. We do have another new student, a fifth year, joining our school this year. It will not seem so suspicious when there are two of them."

Snape closed his eyes. The reasoning was good, but there was something niggling in the back of his mind, some unease and doubt that remained. He would, like always, have to place his trust in Dumbledore.

The two finished their conversation. The decision would rest with Harry.

Harry was, in the meantime, sitting in his rooms. He had already made up his mind, why did he need to think about it. He and Severus would both be safe this way.

He looked in the mirror, pulling up his sleeve. The skin there was pale and creamy. What would it look like, permanently disfigured with a Dark Mark? When Voldemort was killed, 'if' his mind corrected him, what would happen to him?

He sat there for quite some time. Then, he saw an owl fly towards his window, and he hurried to open it. The hot August air came into the room, making it feel stifling. Harry allowed the owl to fly to Hedwig's perch, and then closed the window. 

There was a letter from Hermione. He quickly opened it up, and saw it was full of information about her summer, her vacation, and her plans. There was also an invitation to meet her in Diagon Alley in a few weeks, to purchase their school supplies. 

Harry thought he would wait to answer it tomorrow. He'd talk to Dumbledore. Perhaps this would be the perfect timing to "disappear"?

He could write back, saying he was going off to train for his fight against Voldemort. He could ask her to tell Ron, too. Then , he could ask that no owls be sent to him, as he needed complete concentration in his work.

It sounded somewhat realistic. Maybe it would convince Hermione, especially if it came from his pen.

He decided to take it with him tomorrow, when he went to tell Dumbledore about his plans.

Snape was back in his lab, beginning to make the first batch of the Wolfsbane potion. It had to simmer for two days, so if he started now, he could preserve it until Remus could drink it in six days.

He started by adding the base ingredient, an infusion of wild root herbs, mixed with water. He slowly brought it too a boil, adding the necessary pickled worms stomachs, one at a time. Then, on to the next ingredient, which was dragon liver. After this was added, the potion needed to be stirred anti-clockwise eighty times.

Severus was very precise in his actions. To him, potions brewing was an art, one that had to be preserved and cherished. He finished the eighty strokes, and then let the cauldron sit. It had to remain in this stage for at least eight hours, but it could be left for longer, any amount of time up to forty-eight hours.

He went to sit back in his rooms. The cold green and black did not bother him as much as it had this morning, when he had been searching for refuge in the Room of Requirement. 

He was a Death Eater. He had condemned his son to the same fate. He knew Harry would accept the challenge, just because it would save Severus's life. He couldn't take it. 

He wished now that he could stop spying, but Voldemort would always have control of him. He rolled up his sleeve, and saw the mark there, grinning at him evilly. It was a constant reminder to his enslavement of mind, body, and soul.

So, he felt almost comfortable amongst the Slytherin colours and memorabilia. The tapestry of two snakes on the wall, drop of blood between them. The Snape coat of arms. This is where he was born to be. It was in his blood. 

This is where he belonged. 

__

Well. Another chapter. What did you think? Let me know, Read and Review.

I'm starting to get my ideas for this story into place, thanks to some very excellent help from The Vampire Story Hunter. 

Also, special thanks to Kneh13, who other than being an excellent writer, has reviewed every single chapter of this story. Thanks a lot a lot! 

And, thanks to my other reviewers, 

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Also, I'd be happy to read and review anyone's stories, if you ask me too. Just leave a little note in your review. 

~Leuca


	6. Chapter Six

Like Father, Like Son

The new day dawned. Harry was up early. He had an idea that the Headmaster would be, too. He went to the Great Hall for breakfast, and was the only one there.

Like at Christmas break, all tables but one had been removed. There was food on it, though, and Harry began to eat. He was rather glad that he was alone. So far, he hadn't had to talk to anyone about himself yet. He had stayed clear of his Professors, all except Lupin and Snape. It would be too uncomfortable, and, he didn't really know what he'd say about his past if he was asked. He would have to talk to his father about that, so they could both have the same story.

After a filling breakfast of toast and orange juice, Harry returned to his room for a short bit, to get his wand and Hermione's letter. He also grabbed a sheet of the parchment that he used to normally write his letters.

Knocking on Dumbledore's door, he didn't have to wait very long for it to be answered. Dumbledore stood in front of him, looking bright and chipper as always.

"Ah, Sameth," he said with a wink "come in!" He moved aside so Harry could enter the door. The "Sameth" unnerved him, but he figured he'd get used to it eventually.

"Professor Dumbledore." He said, curtly.

"Have you come to a decision, regarding the situation between you and your father?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. He knew the answer.

"Yes, I have, actually. I will become a Death Eater… and a spy." Harry said, stoically. It was what he had to do, to protect his father's life.

He was convinced.

Dumbledore seemed to notice this, and remembered a similar conversation he'd had almost twenty years ago.

__

"Professor Dumbledore?" A young, black haired man stood in front of Dumbledore's desk. A younger, still very old Headmaster looked up at him, from the piece of paper he had been reading.

"Yes, Severus? What can I do for you?"

The man paused, not sure where to begin. He was young, just graduated Hogwarts, in fact. He was unsure of himself. Dumbledore ran through his knowledge of the boy.

A Slytherin, had been prefect, in fact, but had just barely lost the Head Boy position to James Potter. He was intelligent, very much so, in fact, he had the best Potions grades the school had ever seen. 

But he was also dark, and troubled. Dumbledore knew of his family. The Snape's had been a prominent figure in the wizarding world until their death less than two years ago. Young Severus stayed with some friends over the holidays.

While they had been alive, the Snape's had been very dark. Severus' s own grandfather had died during the final battle against Grindalwald, rather facing death than surrender.

Severus, in fact, was known amongst the higher authority figures, to have been involved in the new Dark Lord's group. He always stayed just ahead of leaving enough evidence to be taken in to custody for questioning. The Ministry was getting upset at it's lack of progress. 

The man started to speak. He had decided that he would say this, and it was now or never. He began his confession.

"I… I want you to put me in Azkaban. I'll go willingly! I just… can't take the guilt anymore. God damn it, Dumbledore, I'm a Death Eater."

It was liberating, admitting it. He knew now that he could submit himself to the punishment he deserved. Last night had been the final straw. The poor muggle, at the meeting. Severus began to tell Dumbledore his story, first adding a "For Lily."

She was scared, terrified in fact. Looking at her, watching her see magic performed, you could tell she thought it was a dream, a hallucination, that it was anything but real. She didn't want it to be real.

She looked around the room, looked at all the hooded men, looking at them, but seeing none of them. 

She was very beautiful. Her jet black hair hung down over her, past her shoulders and back. It covered her, like a shield. Her face was angelic, and her pale skin was striking with her complexion. She had bright emerald eyes, that shone like the light of stars themselves twinkled out. 

Many of the Death Eaters, Severus could tell, were looking forward to having her join the collection of women Voldemort kept for the Death Eaters to rape.

She was also, Severus noticed, pregnant. Not very far along, but for his sharp eyes, it was a matter of fact. She was terrified, trembling for her and her child's fate.

She stood in the midst of the circle. Then, the circle broke, and reformed again, closing around the latest arrival. 

It was the Dark Lord Voldemort.

He moved closer to the woman, stroked her cheek with his hands. He looked very similar to Tom Riddle had, during his Hogwarts days. His eyes had changed. Now they were a red colour, unnatural. 

These odd, fearsome eyes looked over the woman, watching her greedily. He then began to speak.

"This woman," he spat the word, obviously not considering her worthy to share it with even the lowest and most destitute purebloods, "standing before you, carries with her the seed of a wizard, who once was a faithful subject of mine. Antone Crosx, now deceased, dated her, married her. He thought that he could trick us all, but he could not."

He pointed an outreached finger at the crowd, swinging it ceremoniously. 

"Severus Snape."

Severus could feel his heart pound. His master called him? He would answer. The Snape stepped forward, bowing before his master.

"What, my Lord? I will serve you, whatever you ask."

The Dark Lord grabbed Snape by the arm, his ice cold fingers almost burning into him, the way water does when it is so hot, it feels frozen. 

"You are experienced in the ways of death, Severus. I know you have no qualms about causing such a fate to another, as you have before, thousands of times. Now, I want you to kill this woman and child. Imagine them to be all the scum of the earth that has been feeding upon the flesh of the purebloods for so long! 

Kill the animal who stands in front of you, take off your mask, and let her see your eyes. Show her, once and for all, that we shall always conquer."

Severus was relieved. It was easy. A few seconds task, with no other consequences.

He removed his hood, letting his always greasy hair free. Then, the mask. He stood before her, his vision unadulterated by the confines of a hidden identity.

He looked at her, eye to eye. Then, his vision morphed. The raven beauty who stood before him morphed into his precious Lily, the only thing that had made him have second thoughts about joining Voldemort. 

The dark black hair became red, and the nose and mouth changed shapes. Only the eyes, watching him with infinite sadness, yet compassion, stayed the same. His flowers eyes, so knowledgeable yet innocent. 

He was aware he was taking too much time. His reverie was snapped by the crowd pushing around him, jostling him to hurry up. No word came from Voldemort. 

Severus then realized that it was a test, to prove his innocence to the Dark Lord. He put a steely glint in his eye, and a smirk on his face. He turned to Voldemort, and bowed. Then, he faced the woman yet again. 

He prepared himself. "Avada Kedavra." He spoke with an air of nonchalance, and one of normalcy. The woman didn't even comprehend what he was saying, only the cutting of her string by those trickster fates, spinning their webs around lives so methodically.

And her body lay on the ground. Severus checked it. And then, once more, the image of Lily floated in front of her eyes. Not a muggle woman dead, Lily. His Lily.

He stood up, replacing his hood and mask. The mob of Death Eaters were going crazy at the sight of a new death, blood lust setting in. He felt distant, unconnected to them. He gave the Dark Lord his respects, and left.

He had passed Lord Voldemort's tests, but somehow, deep inside, he felt like he had failed it.

He went straight to Dumbledore, who had, instead of taking him to the Dementors and the cold, unforgiving eternal memory of Azkaban, adopted his as his spy. 

It was all so similar, in a twisted way. Severus remains a Death Eater, for Lily, and now, her son, Harry is becoming one for Severus. 

Harry's quizzical expression brought Dumbledore back to the present time. He hadn't noticed how long he'd been staring off into space, not really thinking at all about the situation in front of him. He would have to be more careful. The headmaster got his thoughts in order, and began to tell Harry what would happen to and become of him. But first, he had to make sure.

"Are you positive about this, Harry?" There was always a chance that the boy would pull back. But that would not be like him, and so Dumbledore was not surprised at his words.

"Its what I have to do. If I can master Occlemency, then I can protect my true thoughts from Voldemort, all the while gathering information to stop him. Plus, I'd probably get a better training from the Death Eaters than I would anywhere else, for my situation, anyways. Besides, the closer I am to danger, the farther from harm, right?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, that is true. I fear for your safety, and your fathers, but it is always an issue, and such an extreme case will be hard to figure out on Voldemort's part. You will begin to study again with your father on the two nights a week that have not already been reserved."

"What?!" Another two nights? Despite the fact that they had been getting along somewhat better that was still too much time to be spending with Snape.

"You do need the practice. The sixth years who are going to become Death Eaters will start their initiation training at the end of this summer. You will need to be proficient enough by then to protect yourself.:

Harry held back further protest. If it was only until the end of the summer, then it would be okay, if not pleasant, bearable.

"So… the training starts that early?" He only had a few weeks left of being himself. 

"Yes. All the future Death Eaters in your year will be reported, and trained once a week, until winter holidays. Then, you will become a full member, and have the mark placed upon your skin, where it will be until Voldemort is finally destroyed." Dumbledore's eyes rested upon Harry's hand, which was subconsciously rubbing his shoulder, where the mark may, within half a year, lay.

"So soon?" Harry murmured to himself. Dumbledore did not reply. He was not expected to. 

Then, Harry pulled himself together, under the close scrutiny of the Headmaster. He straightened up, set a grim expression on his face, and became more professional. 

"Okay. Next, Professor Dumbledore, what should I tell my friends?" He showed the letter from Hermione to Dumbledore, who read it quickly.

"Hmmm.. What owl delivered this?" 

"A hired one, like Hermione always uses."

That worked out rather nicely, actually, fitting perfectly into Dumbledore's plans.

"I suggest, then, Harry, that you write a letter to Ms. Granger, telling her that you have been pulled from school for some training. Explain that you cannot write details, or any more letters, as your full concentration is required. Then, tell her that you hopefully expect to see her soon, and, while your gone, have her take care of Hedwig, as you know that she doesn't have an owl." Dumbledore finished.

Harry had already began to scribble a note to his friend. Finishing it, he read it aloud to the Headmaster, who nodded. It sounded just like Harry. 

Then, Harry reread it, and exclaimed "Oh!" 

"What, Harry?"

"I've forgotten, Professor! What about my handwriting. My appearance, eyes, and scar are all taken care of, but what about my handwriting, and things like that? Surely, if Ron or Hermione, or just about any Gryffindor sees my handwriting, it will look familiar? I can't write neater without it being too obvious."

"Ah. I had forgotten that. Well, perhaps you should work on a new style of writing, perhaps something more elegant? Take up calligraphy, as it would have been a lesson learned years ago by such an old pureblooded pupil."

Harry nodded. That was taken care of, at least.

He had one more question.

"What about my house? I know that you said that Sameth Snape would be sorted, but what if the hat chooses Gryffindor? Wouldn't the future Death Eaters become suspicious?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I wouldn't be too worried about that, Harry. Yes, Lily was a true Gryffindor, but the line of Snapes all the way back have been Slytherin and Ravenclaw. I believe you've seen the Snape seal?" 

"Actually, no. What is it?"

Dumbledore drew out his wand and muttered something under his breath. Then, appearing to float in midair were two snakes, intertwined, with a drop of blood (yes, from this angle, it was clearly blood) between their heads. 

Harry looked at it. It seemed familiar, but he could not quite put his finger on where he'd seen it. Nowhere around Snape, he was sure of that, and he'd never actually had direct correspondence with the man. Then, like a ton of brick smashing him in the face, it hit him.

The letter on his birthday! The one that released the gases. Of course, it would have been sent privately, and there wouldn't have been any need to take precautions over the seal. 

Harry looked at it, more closely. It was, now that he thought about it, very Slytherin. 

He now understood Dumbledore's mirth, and the smiling Headmaster began to further explain things.

"Even if you are a re-sorted into Gryffindor, you would not be that suspected. No one, after all, knows who your mother was. And, there have been several Death Eaters from the house, although you are only aware of one, I believe.

Harry swallowed. Wormtail. He'd have to face that slimy, fucking rat again, if he had to go through with this. He didn't know if he could contain his anger, and keep from killing him. How he'd enjoy watching the pain slit across his face, keeping it turned and twisted with agony. He'd deserve it, if anyone did. He was the one responsible for ruining the majority of Harry's life. The pain, the sheer hatred Harry would release. He'd torture…

Harry stopped himself. He was actually doing this. Those thoughts, those images in his mind, couldn't have been better conjured up by a Death Eater.

He didn't want to become like that, but here he was already, getting a sick pleasure from another's pain. 

"God, don't let me be like that" he thought/prayed, to whomever was listening. 

Dumbledore, of course oblivious to the inner workings of Harry's head, was still mumbling on about how Harry's great-great grandfather's cousin twice removed on his fathers side had been the first Slytherin Head Boy, or some genealogical nonsense like that. 

He mailed the letter, after talking a bit and petting Hedwig.

"Girl, you're a great owl, but it's too obvious. Please go, and stay with Hermione. She'll take good care of you. Just don't come to me if you see me here, okay?"

He was getting emotional over a bloody owl. His rational part of the brain was getting horribly annoyed at him, and he felt rather silly talking to her, especially in front of Dumbledore. But, she had been his only friend during some of the roughest times of his life, and he owed it to her.

He watched her fly away through a window, until she disappeared into the sun.

So he was alone. 

Dumbledore, once noticing that he was being ignored, shut up, and pretended not to be watching Harry say goodbye to the owl.

"Well, Harry, you will be needing another owl. It would seem unlikely that one from your background would arrive at school with nothing to carry his mail. Perhaps, if you had nothing planned for today, you could go and pick out another one, if Severus will agree to take you."

Harry was so distraught about replacing his owl that he almost didn't hear that last part. When he did, though, he responded.

"What? Headmaster, I thought that I could go out now, because Voldemort already knows about me. Surely he won't try and get me to join at the Owl Emporium, will he?"

"I know that you dislike this, Harry, but its necessary. If some Death Eater, remembering the previous meeting, saw you, he could easily bring you to his master, and you would not be able to protect your mind. Be sensible. Severus will be okay. You two need to spend more time together, anyway."

Harry groaned. Not only was yesterday spent with Snape, but today, and, because of their Potion's appointment, the next day as well. 

He was too worn down to care, though. His defenses for arguing were shot. All that had happened to him had sort of taken its emotional toll on him, and he was not up to refusing.

"Okay."

Dumbledore went to the fireplace and called Severus up to his office. 

A few long minutes of silence later, he was there.

He seemed to be calmer, more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him. He came in, and swept his hair out of his face. 

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"Severus. Sameth and I just sent the boy's owl away to go stay with Ms. Granger, who apparently doesn't have one, along with an owl of his disappearance. Now, Harry seems to need another bird to carry his mail, and I was hoping you could accompany him to get one? He would like to go alone, but, as I told him, it is much too dangerous."

Harry scowled a bit at this part, but didn't say anything.

Severus nodded. "Of course, Headmaster. But, Sameth, we'd need to stop by my rooms first so I can add another ingredient to Lupin's potion."

"By all means, go ahead. The full moon is in another five days, is it not?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

"That sounds fine, then, Severus. But when you return, if you could come to my office," he looked at Harry "privately, there are some issues I need to speak to you about."

Snape nodded. He wondered what, other than his spying, did Dumbledore have to talk to him about. Unless it was… Sameth. It was still odd, thinking of that name. But then, the sixteen year old in front of him no longer looked like James or Harry Potter, so Sameth it was.

The two left, making their ways down into the dungeons, where Harry noticed, that, despite the fact it was summer, it was still freezing. It must always be like that, here. He wondered if he would be down here, as a Slytherin, when school started again.

For some reason, he sincerely hoped not.

Reaching the door, they entered Snape's private workroom. There were two large cauldrons bubbling, glowing a bright white colour. It was almost silver. 

Snape pointed to the brews. "Wolfsbane Potion. Incredibly difficult to make. Most people don't ever learn the skills unless they become Masters at the subject. I believe that currently, myself and three other people are known to be able to brew it."

Harry was astounded. His newfound appreciation of Potions showed him that this particular potion must be quite complex, indeed. He almost felt… proud of, well, his father, that he was able to make it.

He didn't say all this aloud, but Severus could read his eyes, a bit, and felt newfound affection for the boy.

"Perhaps you can learn, sometime?"

"Me, sir?"

"Yes, Sameth, you. I expect that you should be quite good at Potions now, all Snapes are. Once you have progressed even farther, I expect that you will be able to quickly master such complicated brews."

Harry felt flattered. "Thank you, sir."

"Please, don't call me that. It feels so uncomfortable, and strained. Besides, school has not yet started, and, while I do expect you to refer to me as 'Professor Snape' when term starts, Severus for now would be fine."

'or father' he thought, but did not say.

Harry nodded. 

Snape began to add the next ingredient, a coppery liquid which he explained to be treated dog blood.

While stirring the potions, he asked several questions that had been nibbling at the back of his mind, but had never gotten the chance to get out.

"I assume you've accepted the spying offer Dumbledore gave you?"

"Yes."

Snape sighed. He wished there was some way around this. He hated the thought of all the horrible things that his son would have to see. The things that he had had to live through, and that still haunted him. 

He didn't want his son to end up like him.

It was a strangely protective thought for him. 

"If you ever need to talk about anything in your training, I am here, Sameth. I went through it, granted, many years ago, and in much different circumstances, but still, I know what it was like."

"Thank you, Severus."

When Dumbledore spoke the name, it was normally soft, and filled with so much emotion. Remorse, and regret, pride, loyalty, all the things that made up the man himself. Yet, as it rolled off Sameth's tongue, it felt heavy, clumsy with misunderstanding. It would be hard to get used to. 

Snape noticed, yet said nothing. He didn't want to get into a fight about something so trivial, yet monumental, as his name. It would come, in time.

He finished the potion, then they left. Once again, Severus offered to port-key, but Sameth refused. 

"You will have to get used to it, eventually, you know. The Dark Lord uses Portkeys during the training of those who cannot yet apparate."

Sameth responded. "Then teach me how to apparate. Wouldn't I, given my _background_ already know how? He stressed the word background, remembering that most of what Dumbledore had told him had been regarding his background, both as a pureblood, and a Snape. 

"Perhaps you should learn how. It is true that this is a skill that people like the Malfoy's and Parkinson's would have learned early in life."

Sameth made a face. "Draco and Pansy? I had almost forgot about them."

"Well, don't. Draco is very intelligent, and just as cold-blooded about muggles as his father is. He will be watching you this year, and, it would be best to make friends with him, before enemies. I'd put money on the fact that already he knows of you, and has been told to record your every move. Lucius is a very suspicious man, especially since he broke free from Azkaban."

Sameth was shocked. He'd forgotten all about that, hearing only bits and pieces of the story since he'd been trapped at his muggle relations all summer long. 

"Besides, out of the two," the elder Snape continued, "Draco presents the most danger to you."

The younger boy nodded. "Well, then, what should I know about him, to protect me from his watchful eyes?"

"For one thing, do not insult his pride. He is very old-fashioned in his beliefs, and his faiths root strongly in his family's blood. 

Do not insult his family, either. He has grown up nearly worshipping his father, let alone Voldemort, and his mother has been there for him during some particularly bad experiences, and he has always been close to her. 

One more thing, although do not tell anyone you know, especially Malfoy, is that Draco and Pasny are engaged. Both families have prided themselves on their pureblood, and now, the pureblooded families have dwindled. They have been betrothed since before Pansy, the younger of the two, was born."

Sameth made a careful note of this information. Then, he followed his father into the fireplace, and into the Owl Emporium. 

Inside, he immediately almost gagged, from the smell of so many owls in cramped corners, and the heat. 

There were, as he remembered, flocks of owls, all caged up, some were looking around, some flapping their wings, but most were asleep. 

He followed Severus down the isles, examining all the birds. 

He would mutter as he passed ones, "too small, too common, too lazy".

They reached the front of the store, where an attendant asked them if he could help them.

"We are looking for a very reliable, smart bird." Severus hissed at him. "Only the best." 

He was menacing, really. Sameth had spent so much time around the new, nicer version of his Professor lately, that now, hearing him in his regular voice, was eerie.

"Well, we have some golden owls, very nice, and a good deal, too." The clerk steered them towards one end of the store.

"No, those are too untrustworthy. Do you have any ravens, perhaps?

"Ravens? Those are very rare, sir, and expensive. But, if you'd like, we might have one."

Sameth remembered the bird that had flown into his window, bearing the letter that carried the Snape seal. Must be another "family" thing, he thought. Actually, he'd never seen Snape's bird. He wondered if it had been the raven, or if that had been just a delivery bird.

The attendant led them into the back, where there were even more owls. The ones back here were different, though. There was a different selection, and some of them looked very rare.

In the corner, in a gold cage, stood a raven. The stately bird immediately looked at Sameth, when he approached, and he could feel a connection with the animal. 

"I'll take it." he answered, before the clerk could even open his mouth. 

Less than five minutes later, he was carrying the bird in its gold cage, along with some treats. He had ended up paying two galleons for it, a high price for a mail bird. 

Snape wasn't exactly talkative as they made their way to the fireplace in the front of the store. In fact, he didn't say anything. 

They Floo-ed back to Hogwarts, and immediately left each other's company, with a short good-bye. Harry went back to his room, deciding to study some more books, trying to find a name for the male raven. 

Severus headed up to Dumbledore's office.

He entered, knocking on the door. Dumbledore waved him in, and they both sat down.

"Did everything go okay, Severus?"

"Yes, he accomplished the very stressful task of picking out a bird, Headmaster." the sarcasm was obvious, though not really directed towards anyone.

"Did you talk to Harry at all about his decision?"

"Yes, _Sameth _and I had a discussion."

"And he still thinks it is for the best?" Dumbledore pointedly ignored the changing of the boy's name.

"Yes, although it pains me to see him make the same mistake I made, although for many different reasons."

"I know, Severus. But, this is the only way where he can get the necessary tools to defeat Voldemort while still protecting himself."

The conversation continued thus, Severus finally conceding to the Headmaster's point of view, but still regretting that this turn of events was inevitable. 

Remus, meanwhile, had spent the morning in the castle, writing letters and such. He had received a disturbing piece of new last night from some of the werewolves he had been trying to persuade to join Dumbledore's side.

Apparently, the Death Eaters were claiming that they had a cure for the lycanthropic, and hoards of Remus's associates were begging to join Voldemort.

The damage that they could deal to the other side was astounding. Remus had hurriedly tried to gather as much information as he could, but it was not working very well.

He would have to go to Dumbledore with this news.

He, himself, was tempted. The cure! No more Wolfsbane potion, no more pain and suffering, and loneliness. But, he just couldn't abandon everyone like that. Not while he could still help on this side.

And around the time Remus was heading to Dumbledore's office, which contained an angry Snape, and a triumphant Headmaster, Hermione Granger had received an owl.

Hedwig, instead of flying off as normal, had perched on her windowsill. Hermione hadn't really given this much thought, but rushed straight to Harry's letter. She was shocked, but not terribly so.

She, being the intelligent person that she was, expected something like this to happen. Of course Harry would need to be trained more thoroughly than Hogwarts could ever imagine. She expected him to be somewhere with Aurors, learning new curses and defense spells. She, however, hadn't expected there to be a loss of contact, and it made her sad. 

This was the last letter she'd get from Harry, maybe until the war was over. She quickly gave Hedwig some water, and petted her. She wasn't one to talk to owls, but Hedwig didn't seem to mind.

Then, after the owl was rested, she sent a letter off to Ron, enclosing portions of the original letter. She also asked him if he wanted to meet her in Diagon Alley in a weeks time. 

She sat down, after doing this, thinking. She really would miss one of her best friends this year. 

__

Well, another chapter done. Sorry it took so long to get out. I just couldn't think of anything there, and this chapter might reflect that a little bit. Sorry if it's not very good. 

But expect some more chapters soon, because I have a break for a little bit, so I'm hoping to get a chapter in on Wednesday, Friday, and maybe another one on Saturday or Sunday. But realize, that's 20,000 words in a week, and my muse may be running dry. If it doesn't die from dehydration completely, that is.

Let me know what you think. Or, if you don't want to review, you can always get me at _Leuca_2007@hotmail.com__. And, if you have a fic of your own that you'd want to be read and reviewed, let me know. I really enjoy reading stories written by people who I've had some form of contact from. I figure that I'd probably never otherwise get a chance to read these, because there are what, over 100,000 HP fanfic on this site, and I usually stick to Severitus Responses, or some Draco/ Ginny. But there are some really excellent stories out there, and I'd recommend this one to everyone-_

My Name is Luna and I don't care, by **BaYer04rulz.** Plus, happy early birthday to her!

Thanks to-

Notorious-lisa

HecateDeMort

BaYer04rulz

Lillinfields

Jedi Buttercup

Badassgothicgirl

Kateril

Starange12106

The Vampire Story Hunter

Chompekitas

Lady shinigami2

Eriee

Maxx77

Kneh13

Xyverz

Hermionegreen

Andromeda Snape-Malfoy

Sarit halivana

Athenakitty


	7. Chapter Seven

Like Father, Like Son

The day of Sameth and Severus's required meeting had come. The younger of the two had spent most of his time looking through books for names for his new raven. 

He had finally found one that he had liked. Adai. It had been the name of an old sorcerer whom had discovered many potions and was generally regarded as the "Father of Modern Potions and Brews", as his book claimed.

The bird seemed to like it, too, responding whenever Sam had called him by it. The two were pretty well-acquainted and the bird had proven himself a worthy companion, smart and brave.

Severus had been brooding in the dungeons a lot thinking about what he was going to tell the Dark Lord. At the next meeting, he would surely be asked about his son's reactions to the news. Then, the meeting after that, the new Death Eaters would be brought and given a trainer. The trainer would give the apprentice challenges, and measure how well he did on these. 

Then, they would report at Christmas to Voldemort, who would review each student's abilities and initiate him, ranking them in order. Severus was currently the fourth in standing, after Lucius Malfoy, and the Lestrange's. 

The top eight Death Eaters were the most vital to Voldemort's cause, and he was rather fond of testing them for loyalty and endurance. 

Severus was mainly important for his use with potions, but also with Dumbledore. He always gave enough information to make himself useful, but not enough ever to really dramatically hurt the other side.

Severus remembered his own training. He had been under the care of Barty Crouch, whom had been Voldemort's second in command until his death. His training had been horrific. The challenges were still painful to remember, the whole first half of his sixth year a mass of pain and blood and death, ending only in his Dark Mark. How proud he had been to wear it. When he was younger, he hated to cover it up.

It had been necessary, though, when he was still at school. If someone who was not loyal to the cause had seen it, it would been his life.

But today was the father and son's meeting. Both met in the Room of Requirement early and with potions ingredients in hand.

After a short greeting, they decided to get started. 

"So, Severus, what are we making?" The name, although still foreign, rolled off Harry's tongue more easily now.

"A few different varieties of Healing Potions. If you follow through with your plan they will become quite necessary for you to know."

He laid out the ingredients, asking Sameth if he knew what each was and what they would do if mixed with other ingredients. The Potions Master was greatly impressed by the knowledge, and let the boy start working, as he watched.

Sameth, though nervous, began. He didn't want to fail his father. He actually wanted to make him proud. A rich new feeling buzzed around in his stomach. 'Parental approval.' So that's what it felt like. 

Instead of feeling this towards James, he had felt more of a need to prove himself. Not to James, in fact, just the opposite. He had needed to show everyone he could live up to his father's reputation. 

He mixed, stirred, chopped, and minced. As always, Sam's measurements were precise, and it was with an experienced hand that he added the plants and animal parts.

Nearly half an hour later, he was finished, the perfect potion simmering correctly on an open flame. He had a short break until he would need to add the next component, essence of Lamb's Ear, a soft, furry plant that would help the volatile reactions usually experienced.

He finished. 

Severus looked over his work, generally approving. It was excellent work for Sameth.

He nodded. 

Sam didn't even know he was waiting for any sign of approval until he almost felt himself smile.

"It's good." Severus voiced it. "Good enough to sell, actually." Seeing Sam's quizzical looks, he responded. "Healers and Nurses like Pomfrey buy their stores from brewers all the time. This one you've created could be sold for a profit."

Sam sat, thinking.

"Then, if you brew all these complicated potions, why don't you sell them? Surely you'd be able to."

"I make potions for only three people. They keep me busy with my work, and with teaching, the time and energy would be too much."

"Who do you make your potions for then? I mean, obviously yourself and Dumbledore, but…"

His questioning was cut short by Severus grabbing his arm, and pulling up the sleeve. 

"Oh, Voldemort."

He thought that Severus was only showing him the mark, and was rather surprised that he'd do that instead of just tell him, but was even more confused when Severus started running out the door, robes billowing after him, pain etched on his face as he grabbed his arm.

"Oh!" He got it.

Severus didn't stop to correct the boy. He didn't think he could, actually. He kept running, and stopped only after he had apparated. 

He was in a field, somewhere. There was dying brown grass beneath his feet, and nothing except land and sky to be seen in any direct. 

It was different, more open and airy than normal. Not very like the Dark Lord, actually. He usually preferred the dark and claustrophobic, midnight deals to the sunshine and no protection.

But he stood there and waited. Severus was sure that this is where Lord Voldemort would join him.

He watched some birds in the sky for a bit, feeling very self-conscious standing there in his Potions robes in the middle of total isolation.

He thus turned his eyes to the openness around him. He stared at the horizon for a while, growing impatient. He regretted for leaving Sameth there, but he really couldn't stop and explain to him.

It was a little while later when his presence was graced by that of his Master's, as well as Nagini's and Wormtail's. Snape immediately bent down, kissed the Dark Lord's robes, and, knees cracking, stood up.

"Master, what can I do for you?"

The regenerated evil cackled with some unnatural energy. "Ah, Snape. I've called you a little early to see what your son's inclination to our side is. If he has agreed," he stopped, and through the hood the Dark Lord was wearing, Severus could almost see the smirk on his pale, gruesome face. If the face was there, anyways. "Then you both will be rewarded."

Severus regretted what he was going to say next, and hoped that when his son found out the truth that he would be able to forgive him for allowing him to join such a grouped of the damned.

"My son, Sameth has agreed to join our organization. He wants to become a Death Eater, to purge the world of Muggle's and Mudblood filth."

"Excellent." The Dark Lord sounded almost disappointed. "He did not need any- persuasion?"

"No. Once he found out the truth, he was eager to join." 

"Very well. I will add him to the list of recruits. Bring him with you when you are called upon next time. To make this easier on you both, it will be on September the 25th."

Severus thought. That was more than a month and a week away. Plenty of time to begin giving Sameth his other types of training. Training that he would need from Dumbledore and Severus both. 

They had decided not to report him to the Ministry as an official spy. That would mean exposing him as Snape's son altogether too early, and they couldn't risk anything.

However, this meant that if he was caught, there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him from a life sentence in Azkaban. Which, wasn't that bad now that the dementers had been removed, but could still mean the loss of a good spy.

Sameth would also be starting school in that time, so he could make friends with the Slytherins. Severus hoped to God that he wasn't resorted back into Gryffindor. That would be suicide, because, while it wasn't unheard of to have a Gryffindor Death Eater, it would make for strained relationships between Malfoy, Zabini, and the other well-known supporters sons. 

Severus, realizing that he had been wasting precious time with his thoughts, nodded. "We will both be looking forward to it, my Lord."

He turned to leave, when a white-hot hand burned through his sleeve on his arm. 

"I have one more matter of business to clear up with you, Severus."

Severus turned around once more.

"Yes? Anything my Lord."

"I was wondering if you would agree" this was said with forced questioning. Of course if the Dark Lord asked something of a servant, it would be done. "to train a new Death Eater. I am aware that you haven't done this before, and, as they would be a student, I find that this would be an easy way for you to spread some influence."

"Yes, my Lord. I will."

"Good. Do not forget your loyalty, and warn your son to do the same."

There was a burst of pain. The Cruciatus. Unexpected, it was almost too much too bear. The curse was designed for one thing, and one thing only. Push past all barriers until you reach the final breaking point of pain, lingering on death and insanity, then release it. It was like a drug to administer- those who cast it often became addicted to its power, longed for the feeling of causing so much distress to another person. 

Once you were under it, you were different, too. You could never really emerge from such an excruciating experience unscathed. Severus, who had probably been under the curse more than most other Death Eaters, due to the Dark Lord's rather suspicious nature. He thought, correctly as it turns out, that once a traitor, always a traitor, and he had been hesitant to let Severus back into the fold very easily. But he needed such an expert Potion maker, to brew nasty little things for him. In fact, Severus had been the one who really brought back Voldemort. He had given him, years ago, the long lost formula to the restoration brew Wormtail had concocted not that long ago.

Then, as quickly and harshly as it began, the pain stopped. Severus gathered his thoughts, and rather hurriedly, if desperately, pulled himself together. He nodded once at his inflictor, and turned to leave.

This time, Lord Voldemort allowed him to go, handing him a list of the new recruits that he made magically appear. There was quite a few of them. Severus didn't even look at it, merely tucked it into his pocket, turned and limped away. He, of course, wasn't going to train all of the listed. Later, probably on September the 25th, he'd be given his protégé. 

After the pain Severus had just born, his ability to walk was amazing. This display of strength would be a good lesson to his apprentices. He would be the trainer of a new, better generation of Death Eaters. Or so the Dark Lord thought.

Severus had nearly identical thoughts in his head. He was sure that the Dark Lord had been impressed by his ability to take the suffering. The pain, as well as the request that had been before it, made him remember his own training, and the walk back to the castle from the edge of the grounds was a particularly painful one. After all, Barty was only a year older than him, and the Dark Lord hadn't anyone else to be a master.

As they were both Slytherins, it was particularly easy for the seventh year to enter Severus's dorm. The silencing spells, on the bed, to stop anyone from hearing Snape's cry's of pain and pleas for help, and also to stop the hearing of Crouch's pleasure. Night after night, the repressed memories were coming back to Severus. 

No one could be told. The Slytherin would silence him, and if he went to the Headmaster, he would have to admit to his training, and would be killed for being a snitch. So Severus endured. 

He was almost fainting by the time he reached his rooms in the dungeon. He felt as though blows from unseen fists were raining upon him and he did not have an umbrella. Severus still needed to go speak to Dumbledore about these new developments, but right now he needed some potion. Anything to stop this headache, or healing potion to protect both his mind and body from these invisible assailants. 

He was alone when he reached his room. Not that he had actually expected Harry to stay, but Severus was suddenly struck by how empty the room seemed when there was only one person in it. He looked to the cauldron where only an hour previous he and Harry had been working… together. 

There was nothing there now. The cauldron had been cleaned and was currently back on its shelf, as were the potions ingredients that had been used. There was, however, a piece of parchment and two flasks where the workspace had been. Snape reached for the parchment first.

__

Severus (it read, in a rather organized script, much different from the untidy scrawl that usually accompanied Harry Potter's schoolwork. ) 

__

I finished up the potion and bottled it. Thought you might need it when you came back. Here Snape smirked. The boy had insight. It really was what he needed at this time.

__

Thanks for helping me today. 

Then the signature, looking very odd. 

-Sameth

No telling how hard it had been for the boy to write that. But at least he was getting used to and adjusting to the new pressures put on him. They would multiply tenfold before September was over.

The Potions master took the potion, first testing it's quality. He trusted Sameth, but there was an automatic tendency to be paranoid in him. It had, actually, saved him several times before, many of which he was unaware of.

He relaxed for a few minutes in his living room, taking in the cold atmosphere. He placed a hand over his heart, almost as if trying to still its rapid beating. Severus's hand brushed over a piece of paper in the breast pocket of his robe. He brought it out.

It was the list of names that had been given to him by the Dark Lord. It was spelled, so that once someone committed themselves to Voldemort, their name was attached to the list. Snape reviewed it. Written there, the last name on the list was Sameth's. The very first name was Draco Malfoy. Severus expected that he'd been signed up since before his own birth. 

Draco Malfoy. There was much to say about the son of Lucius. Severus was the boy's godfather, although neither made it publicly known. Lucius and Severus had been pretty good friends, once Severus had joined the Death Eaters. 

Lucius and Narcissa both had been in their seventh year when Severus started Hogwarts. Then, they had graduated and been married, and the Snape had lost track of Lucius. Once joining Voldemort, however, Severus began to see a lot more of the Malfoy. They had become friends, and, at one time, they were nearly brothers. Then, Draco had been born.

All this was before a certain night when a memory spell had been placed on Severus. It had always been the Dark Lord first, friends later with the two. If Lucius thought that Severus had sabotaged his Lord's plan, then he of course would try to get revenge.

Even so, Severus had always looked out for Draco. He thought of the boy as completely different from his father, which was probably a good thing. Lucius might be an excellent servant for the Dark Lord, but Draco had been raised with imaginations of greatness in his mind, and those always came before any other. 

Being a good Death Eater was just a step stone in Draco's life, Severus was sure. Once he got as high as he could, he would always aspire to more.

Snape was brought back to his living room by the feeling of pain leaving his leg. He looked over the rest of the list, then decided to go talk to the Headmaster, while the information of Lord Voldemort's was still in his mind. He wandered upstairs, now able to walk without dragging his leg. The potion worked exceptionally well.

"Ah, Severus. Your son was in here a few minutes ago, telling me to expect your return soon."

"How did he know I was coming back?" Sure, Sameth would know that he left for Voldemort, but often it was hours, if not days before he returned in the summer.

"His scar. You were under the Cruciatus Curse, were you not?" The question was gently administered, but still the pain was brought back, even if it was only in a portion of its strength.

"Yes. He can… he can see that?" God only knew how many horrible things that Sameth had been made to watch. The things that his son put up with!

"Sameth has a connection to the curse. He can feel the Dark Lord's malice, and it is extremely potent while he is causing harm to another. Sam had a vision, and reported it to me."

"I see."

"He told me also that you were asked to become a master trainer for a newly recruited Death Eater."

"Yes."

"Do you know why Voldemort asked you this time? He never has before." Dumbledore looked puzzled. In fact, this was an odd move for the Dark Lord to make.

"Perhaps he is beginning to trust me again. Usually, I am exempt from teaching as I make time-consuming potions for him, but this time, it is rather different. There is nothing that he has expressed any desire for me to make, and this would be a way to be useful to the group."

"Maybe." Dumbledore agreed, but did not lose the questioning look in his eyes.

"Was that all you spoke with him on?"

"No. He asked about Har- Sameth's decision. I told the Dark Lord that Sameth would follow him."

"Hmm. How did he take it?"

"Lord Voldemort seemed pleased. It may be because he has an exceptional number of new followers this year. I have heard stories from my sources that almost the entire Slytherin sixth year students have joined, and the ones who have not will probably soon, afraid of being persecuted by their housemates."

Severus was worried about this. This was almost an unheard of show of support. The dark was gaining more followers. If the Ministry and Dumbledore didn't start some recruitments and training of their own, then they would be hard pressed to leave it to the Aurors to manage. After all, each slave of Voldemort was trained so thoroughly, so precisely, that by the end of their half-year training, each could murder any breathing object in the dark from almost one hundred feet away. 

And each specialized in one of several fields. Severus himself was the only potions maker in the group, and was highly indispensable. However, one with particular bloodlust could be a mass murderer. They were in charge of the killing of Muggles and mudbloods during attacks. They were taught curses that could mutilate and keep alive any victim. It took a certain amount of disdain for human feelings and emotions for this job, even for a Death Eater.

However, if you couldn't quite stomach that, there were always the Slayers. The Dark Lord always had at least two of these in the top eight servants. They were sent to destroy high-profile opponents, one on one. Currently in this position were, respectively, the senior Malfoy and Crabbe. While his appearance had been passed on to his son, the elder Crabbe was pointedly much more intelligent, which proved only that pureblood doesn't mean superior. 

There were also numerous other professions, including spies (no one, not even Severus was quite sure who they were, which was why he was so protective of being seen with the Headmaster), thieves, inventors ( who used the money granted to them to come up with spells and potions to be used against opponents) tormentors, plain soldiers (who would eventually be used in a final battle), and then those who did not get personally involved, but monetarily backed the Dark Lord. 

These were always appreciated, but not entirely trusted. Even so, Lord Voldemort collected quite a large amount of money, which he put to use, giving the majority to the inventors. Severus himself received a large portion of this money, and as long as he supplied his master with what was needed and requested, he kept receiving it. 

"Are there any from other houses?" Dumbledore had a resignation etched on his face. He could not shelter his students any more than he could defeat the Dark Lord's army single-handily, as so many of the wizarding world stupidly thought he could.

"Several Ravenclaw's. Pity, really. Thought they'd be smarter than that." There was only a little trace of condescending sarcasm in the Professor's voice. "And a few Hufflepuffs. I thought they'd be too scared, but they will make loyal servants."

At Dumbledore's disproving look, Snape sighed, and was quiet.

"No Gryffindors?"

"All of them." The response was said in the same, unemotional voice that Severus always used. 

"What?!" The voice was horrified, disbelieving, and yet worried all at the same time. 

"Of course there aren't any! There hasn't been a Gryffindor Death Eater since the old rat himself."

Dumbledore seemed to regain some of his lost enthusiasm. There was always hope, Severus supposed, while his brave lions remained loyal to him. And people claimed he showed favoritism?

"Well… Hmm." For once, the usually talkative (even if most of it was nonsense) Headmaster was quiet and reflective. He looked down at his hands, which were absentmindedly flexing the fingers. Finally, he looked up from this fascinating display, and right into Severus's eyes.

"Do you know who you will be training?" The question seemed to be one to make up for the otherwise lack of conversation. 

"No. Probably someone good with potions, but many of the ones whom have that talent would make better Slayers, or even Tormentors." The first name on the list kept coming back to him. 

"You are thinking of Mr. Malfoy?" The Headmaster knew of Severus's attachment, and need to watch out for the young Slytherin.

"Yes. He is by far, with the exception of Sameth, perhaps, the best Potions student I have ever had. He may cause trouble in the class, but his work is always precise." Severus was proud of his godson. He had proved, time and again that he would rise to the top.

"But you do not think that he will become an apprentice in your art?" Dumbledore knew that it was highly improbable, but he needed to know why.

"The young Malfoy would surely be a good Potions maker, yet Sameth would be a better choice. Draco is intelligent and cold. He would make an excellent Slayer, or even a spy. However, given his background, I do not think that he will be very convincing as a Ministry suck-up."

Dumbledore nodded, his half-moon spectacles falling over the bridge of his nose.

"And your son? Do you think that you might train him?"

"I do not know if Voldemort will allow that. He is careful, and if he suspects me, he may want to separate us to prevent any potential damage to Sameth. But for the same reason, he may not want Lucius to train Draco. Other than this, I do not know anything about the potential trainers."

Severus was thoughtful while and after saying this. It was true that if he was to train another Potions brewer, it would likely be either his son or his godson. The Dark Lord kept excellent tabs on the abilities of his servants, and each was placed where he was needed and fit in.

The two were finished talking. Severus was directed to share his news with Sameth (what news? He thought), yet didn't argue with the Headmaster. He was directed to the boy's rooms, and he took his time to get there.

He wandered the corridors for a while, going nowhere in particular. He was confused himself. Why his sudden unwillingness to go talk to the boy? Eventually he found himself in front of the suit of armor. 

"Umm?" How did one knock on a door if there was none? Severus leaned forward, perhaps to tap on the visor of the hollow knight, after all he just seemed rather silly, standing there. 

He knocked once… twice… three times. There was no answer. He was about to leave when the suit of armor suddenly stepped aside, and a heavy wooden door opened behind him.

"Severus?" The black-haired boy's head came out from behind the door. 

"Sameth. May I speak to you for a minute?"

"Of course, sir- I mean, Severus." Sameth opened the door wider, allowing room between the suit of armor and the wall for his father to get through.

Entering the room, Severus sat down on the couch, Sameth sitting opposite from him in a wide chair.

Sameth brought up right away the topic of conversation he most wanted to talk about, with a bluntness that startled Severus and reminded him of Lily.

"I'm going to be a Death Eater."

"Yes. If you survive your training."

"Who will train me?"

"I don't know. I might, although I doubt the Dark Lord will allow it."

Sameth twitched. "What will my training consist of?"

Severus sighed, and began heading into the explanation. "It depends, really, on what your Lord and Master wants you to do." Seeing the blank expression on the boys face, he offered some advice. "You should begin to call him that in your mind, and in conversation with me, anyway. It will be hard enough to do at first, but imagine how much more difficult it will be when you are in his presence."

Sameth nodded, allowing his father to continue. "If he chooses you to brew Potions, like me, then you will be my apprentice. If you can easily kill many people, you will be a mass murderer. If you are good at curses and dueling, you will be a Slayer, and will be sent on missions to exterminate the Dark Lord's enemies. A thief steals things, people, and money for the cause.

Or, if you are particularly sadistic, then you will be a Tormentor. You will learn the many delightful ways to harm other human beings. It all depends, see."

This had an immense effect on the boy. He needed the reality. Sameth needed to know what to expect, and this was that. 

Sameth's head was going crazy. How could he, the kind and heroic Harry Potter expect to be able to kill, torture, even hurt other people? It went against everything he ever knew.

But he wasn't Harry Potter. Not anymore. It wouldn't be Harry doing this. It would be Sameth Snape. It was okay for him to. It wasn't him, it was Sameth. 

Sameth would kill others, and enjoy it. Sameth would come out, take over for Harry when it was needed. But, when he had his fun, he'd go back, and Harry would report to Dumbledore.

It was Sameth, not him.

"When will this be decided? When will I find out what path will be mine?" How long until Sameth fed himself with blood?

"September 25th. School, of course, will start in two weeks. You need to use all of that time to begin learning to become an Auror."

"How can I become an Auror, if I'm not Ministry approved?"

"Remus will teach you what you need, and I shall teach you some elementary and intermediate dark magic, enough so you will not be behind what others your age already know. Depending on what house you are resorted into, you will find varying skills in the Dark Arts in your peers."

"But surely they won't be open about their beliefs, when they could be taken to the Ministry for them, even risk Azkaban?"

"No, they will check your loyalty first. But, to be safe, make sure you befriend the people on this paper."

Severus showed Sameth the paper with the list of names. The first thing that Sameth did was scour the name, literally sorting the student's houses, seeing if any were in Gryffindor. He did not find any, however, much to his relief.

He went back a second time, and made several exclamations. "Terry Boot? The Ravenclaw?"

Severus nodded. "The numbers this year are dramatically increased. Look, almost the entire Slytherin year is joining."

Sameth looked. "Crabbe and Goyle? I thought that the Dark Lord, my Lord, that is wanted intelligent people on his side. Surely they will not be… well, allowed to do anything?"

Sameth looked positively sick. He had just referred to Voldemort, to Tom Riddle, as his master?

Not him. Sameth Snape. 

The elder Snape snorted, not noticing the boy's change in demeanor. "Of course not. They will be in charge of easily managed things, merely to keep their fathers happy. While neither one is very bright, they've both got money coming out of their arse. Old families, you know."

They both looked over the list for a bit longer. Then, Sameth made a resolution inside himself. He had to know something, anything about his mother. He needed to know about Lily Evens. He looked up, and met his father's eyes. The endless pools of black were matched on his fake colored eyes. For a minute, he wished they were their true emerald brightness.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" 

"Yes. I may not answer it, though, you do realize."

"I know."

"Then proceed."

"Well, actually, it's about my mother. What was she like?" The pasty white complexion of Sameth actually showed signs of colour, as his cheeks turned what would be a bright red on anyone else, but only tinged pink on him.

Severus, whatever he had been expecting, this was not it. He leaned back, running everything he could remember through his head.

"She was… stunning, really. I met your mother, truly met her, in my fifth year. We became good friends. She looked past my past and fascination with the Dark Arts, and I ignored the fact that she was Muggle-born. It wasn't easy for either of us, but we managed to remain close. 

She was such a good person, a friend to everyone. So brave, and beautiful. I couldn't believe, still can't, that she loved me.

She hated hiding our relationship. James was such a good friend, to pretend for us, but she got frustrated. I was never home. I did horrible things, things that would keep any sane person from being within a thousand feet of me, but she stayed. She became my confidante. 

I remember being there, when you were born. I was under Polyjuice, of course, to look like James, but it was still wonderful. She looked at you, in the first hour that you lived without any charms, and couldn't believe that such a precious thing, something so wonderful, couldn't believe that you were hers."

Severus's voice filled with emotion, became heavy with the pain that he had kept to himself for so long.

"I was there when Voldemort, my Lord" his voice was taunting himself, he was killing himself with daggers to the heart, "killed her. I saw her eyes, before she died. She was brave, strong, and true 'til her last gasp was taken. She died defending her home, her family."

It was quiet for a long, eternal moment. Then

"I love you, Lily."

Severus, normally so aware of himself and his presence, was oblivious to the facts that tears were streaming down his face. He was in the past, imagining a moment stopped in time forever for him.

Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but some wisps were coming free. She was wearing dark blue robes, her eyes gems in the night. The fear in them. Lily, standing between the Dark Lord and her child, dieing for her son. She was looking at him when she was hit. Those big, beautiful eyes, still open, still watching him as she hit the floor.

He had tried to stop her death, really he had. But, in the end, he couldn't. It would always be there. He couldn't save his only light. He couldn't even save his son. 

Barely collecting himself, he stood up quickly. 

"I'm sorry, my son." Then he turned and left the room, not noticing anything, unaware of his surroundings until he woke up in his bed the next morning.

He allowed the grief that he had never known out.

Sameth just watched him go. He sat in the room like that for such a long time, imagining the woman in his pictures to be so alive, so full of passions as his father had just told him he was. 

His father. His mother. He had a family, God damn it! 

Severus had called him son.

__

Yes, well. Sorry it took so long. Had the whole brain loss thing and couldn't think of a bloody thing to write. I'm terribly sorry if this chapter sucks, too, or is too emotional. Next chapter will be Sameth's training, and perhaps the beginning of school. I'll try to make it long, to make up for some of my debt. 

Great thanks to the following-

Rhiain

Ranchan17

MikiBaby

BaYer04Rulz

Lillinfields

Halijadesnape

Marajade179

Fairygirl131129

Kneh13

HecateDeMort

The Vampire Story Hunter

Xyverz

Flamelle

Kateril

Max77

Hermionegreen

Starange12106

As always, you can always reach me at _Leuca_2007@hotmail.com_

Thanks!

~Leuca


	8. Chapter Eight

Like Father, Like Son

Severus was embarrassed. There was no doubt that his little emotional outburst had caused tension between the father and son, and the comment that had been made before his departure would have made Sameth cringe.

They had been avoiding each other as much as possible in the two days that had passed. It was now August the 22nd. Remus was starting Sameth's training today, in the Room of Requirement. The full moon had just passed the night before, and the Wolfsbane potion had curbed the lycanthropic tendency for the werewolf, but he was still a little tired. 

The training would be starting relatively easy. Remus would teach basic defense curses and moves, and then Severus would take over with offensive curses and destruction, then move onto dark magic, and finish up with the Unforgivables. The program that they had set up would last until September 24th and would take most of their free time until then. With school starting on the tenth, it would be difficult for the training to continue after then, but all had made a commitment to keep practicing in the Room of Requirement. 

All were willing to get into this, though. It was for a good cause. Remus had lost all contact with his former alliances, whom all presumably turned to Voldemort.

So it was on the 22nd. 

Sameth was awakened out of a much needed rest by Adai pecking him on his shoulder. The bird had become a familiar to him almost (and if not more) than Hedwig had been. 

Getting up, Sameth threw on some old robes of his that were perfect for his training. They were musty, dug up from the bottom of his trunk, and covered in Potions stains. He had used them as a cloth when at the Dursleys when his potions began to over boil.

The potions stains made him remember his father. Things had been awkward between the two, but Sameth was not regretting what he had heard. His parents had loved each other, and him. It was like the perfect family that he had always imagined himself to have. 

There was still the mandatory "Getting-to-Know Each Other" sessions required of him and Severus. Tonight, Sameth thought with a feeling of dread, would be the first one since the other night. Hopefully they could do something that required very little talking, and time could heal the embarrassment that both felt. 

Grabbing his wand, Sameth left for the kitchens, hoping to get in a few bites to eat before his training began. He made his way to the fruit portrait and tickled the pear. With a little giggle the doorknob was there and Sameth was in the kitchens.

Dobby greeted him warmly.

"What can Dobby get for master, Sir Harry Potter?"

"Just some toast, Dobby. Listen, though, for a minute. School will be starting soon, and you can't call me Harry Potter anymore. It's dangerous if someone hears you."

Dobby's great big eyes opened wide, and he nodded, conspiratorially. Looking around, making sure no one was listening or even in the general area, he whispered.

"Yes, sir. But what can Dobby call sir, then?"

"I'm Sameth. Sameth Snape."

"Well, Sir Sameth, Dobby will go make your toast." With a bound, the strange servile creature was off.

Sameth went to sit down at a table, nearly hitting his shin on a stool in the dark room. It was too early for breakfast, so there would be no need for there to be any lights on.

Still cursing the bloody stool, Sameth sat down, and looked over his shoulder to see if he could make Dobby out in the paltry light.

"He's not coming yet." An unfamiliar voice to the side of him said.

Sameth was so startled he nearly hexed the air where the voice had came from. He whipped out his wand, and illuminated the whole room with a quick charm.

"Calm down, Sameth." There was no mistaking the voice this time. Severus Snape was sitting to the side of his son.

"Sorry, sir. You just frightened me, that's all."

"Are we back to the sir now? And turn off that light. It's much too early." Sameth's eyes didn't leave the floor.

"I am sorry about our last encounter. I shouldn't have been so open. It is a dangerous mistake to make." Severus's voice was heavy, thoughtful.

"It' s okay, Professor, really." Sameth was actually trying to comfort his father. "It was actually kind of nice to hear about my mum from someone who knew her so well."

"But I still shouldn't have. The emotions that brought back…," his voice faded off, then started anew, fresh and in the usual monotone sound. "It was a mistake. You should learn from it, too. Servants of my Lord do not share emotions other than hate with others."

Sameth nodded, but didn't respond. Neither of them spoke again until a few minutes had passed and Dobby brought Harry his food.

"Here Master Sameth's breakfast is, sir! Made for him by Dobby."

"Thank you, Dobby."

The elf left and Sameth began to eat. Severus was nursing a glass of coffee, and enjoying the silence, and the dark. 

However, it was he that made the next stab at conversation.

"Are you going to your lessons with Lupin?"

Sameth nodded, swallowed and replied in the affirmative.

"Good. Make sure that he teaches the counter-curses to all major dark spells, excluding the Unforgivables. I want to deal with those myself."

Sameth was rather intrigued by this last bit and questioned it. "The Unforgivables, si.. Severus? Will I get to learn those?"

"Of course you will. It's mandatory knowledge of all my Lord's servants. Also, you will be subject to two out of the three." He didn't need to specify which would be left out.

"I've already been under them, though. The Imperious can be thrown off, and the Cruciatus can be withstood. I thought that there were no counter curses." This was comfortable lore with Sameth. He'd always been interested in the Unforgivables, because they were just that. To imagine the power needed to do any curse that would send the caster to life in Azkaban or worse. 

"You've dealt with them, yes, but being told to jump around the room, or do back-flips or any other silly nonsense like that is nothing compared to what they can do. The more dangerous the suggestion, the more powerful the temptation is to do it. If someone is telling you to hold a wand to your head and Avada yourself, well, that is a hell of a lot harder to resist than acrobatics."

He took a sip of some coffee. He enjoyed it strong, unadulterated by sugars and sweeteners. The bitterness seemed too sweet to his taste, anyway.

"And, as for the Cruciatus? Yes it can be withstood, and its common Auror practice to know how. But still, time changes that. Once you've been under for over seven minutes, its nearly impossible to ever come back the same. You get weaker. The responses are slower. You can't fight it off. 

Why else do you think that two of the Ministry's top Aurors are now sitting in St. Mungo's, unable to recognize old loved ones?

It's a powerful curse. Don't ever underestimate it."

Sameth took in a deep breath of air. Neville's parents. The power. He wondered how long that they had been under for, but didn't want to ask. Severus, almost sensing the question lingering in the shadowy air, answered.

"Over fifteen minutes."

Sameth had more questions. How did Severus know all this? Obviously, he'd been trained in the Dark Arts since before Sameth was born, but still. The accounts seemed to be too personal, not just textbook answers.

"Erm… Severus? Have you ever been under it?"

"Yes. As will you, Sameth. Which is why I'm going to try to teach you how to deal with the pain. Make it a part of you, embrace it. That's what the Ministry officials don't teach, can't teach. They don't know."

"How long have you been under?"

"Almost a half hour."

Standing, Severus sat down his mug, and with a nod at Sameth, left the kitchens. He had work to do. Sameth would figure out the lessons when they were taught. Now he had to go work with Lupin.

Sameth left the kitchens, and the eerie, detached mood that had set on him since his discussions with Severus left. He was eager to get into the training now. He wanted to prove himself to Remeus. After all, he still had the same powers, didn't he?

He made his way back up to the Room of Requirement. He was a few minutes early, but the room was already set up when he entered. 

It was similar to the DA Headquarters, but different. There were bookshelves and a desk on the side of the room, and also a large cleared wooden dueling platform in the middle The walls were covered in charts with different dueling stances and potions ingredients and charms. On the opposite side of the classroom was a miniature potions lab complete with shelves of ingredients. 

Harry settled down on the desk, looking around and reading the book titles. He was engrossed in the first chapter of An Animagus Transformation: Step by Step to Release the Inner Animal when Remus entered.

"Ah, everything looks set up nicely. Sameth, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Professor."

"Are you ready to begin?" Clapping his hands together, Remus looked about as eager to start this as Sameth felt.

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Remeus, or Moony. I'm not your professor yet, and sir is too formal."

"Okay, Remeus. You can call me Sam, if you want to."

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Offering his hand, the werewolf introduced himself.

"Now, what say we begin, eh?" The twinkle was back in his eyes, and there was a springing in his step that made him look much like a young schoolboy.

"Okay. Also, Severus wanted me to tell you that we should learn counter-curses to all major dark spells, except the Unforgivables. He wants to teach me those himself."

Remeus just smiled and nodded. 

"That sounds fine, Sam. Now, lets start with some Charms work. I've been told that you have some good defenses, but what of your own offensive curses? For dueling, it cannot always work just to defend yourself. You must also bring your opponent down."

Sameth nodded, remembering his experiences in duels. They had all been against the Dark Lord. Well, there was that one against Malfoy, but that didn't really count. His best luck in fighting had always been to defend then flee. 

"So, lets start with a basic Pain-Transferring charm. It combines the ease of a Switching spell with a healing spell, taking whatever pain you or any other chosen person is physically suffering from, and transfers it to the recipient. Now, the wand movement is the same as for a Switching Spell, but recite the words "_dolore trasferimento_" at the same time."

Sameth practiced this charm for a few minutes, until he was quite sure of his abilities to use it in an open battle.

"Ready?" Lupin asked. He had been watching the teen quickly grasp both the concept and the spell itself. The boy had a natural talent for these sort of things. It was a trait of his mothers that was not usually seen in the boy.

Sameth nodded, and stepped onto the wooden platform. He chose a friendly duel stance, usually used to settle spats and arguments betweens good pals. Remeus chose the same one, and began to hex.

He first chose a simple squeezing spell that if not dealt with properly choked the recipient until they passed out, then it would stop. However, as soon as Sameth became too uncomfortable in the tight hug of the curse, he flicked his wand and muttered the words.

Instantaneously, he felt better, and Remeus could feel the advancing effects of the curse. The good thing about this particular pain transferring spell was that it didn't just remove the spell and transfer that, but it duplicated the pain spells effects and sent those along, removing the spell altogether. In this way, only two simultaneous cast blocking spells could remove it. 

So, Remeus quickly broke the spell on him, and switched positions on Sameth. First to see if the boy could avoid the spell altogether, and then to see if he could remove the pain spell he had originally cast.

Sameth chose a heat torture spell. It was rather advanced for him, but he performed it admirably, better than Remeus could himself.

Remeus successfully threw it onto Sameth, who used an ice shield charm around himself along with a blocking spell. The two combined were able to destroy the spell, so Sam was never under it. 

Remeus was surprised that the boy had managed to do it, but quickly returned another volley of pain. Both continued going back and forth dueling, and both managed to thoroughly enjoy themselves. However, Sameth always managed to keep that new charm in the back of his head, and finally, when Remeus had sent a particularly nasty festering skin hex at him, he had the particularly good opportunity.

He sent it back at him with his new charm. Remeus had forgotten all about the lesson and was expecting Sam to block it. Just when he thought he'd beaten his opponent, the charm came back at him, and his epidermis felt as if it were on fire. 

He fell backwards with the unexpected pain. Sam walked over, confiscated his wand, and removed the curse. 

"Congratulations" the werewolf said as he was being pulled up.

"For what? All I did was use the charm." Sameth questioned.

"Yes, but you let my defenses fall first. You do know how to duel. It's another trait from your father."

Sameth's face remained stoic, but his mood and attitude changed greatly. He felt wonderful, the same feeling of confused uncertainty and joy that had overcome him when, in a torrent of emotion, Severus had called him son. 

He was like his father.

Severus, meanwhile, was going through his plans on how to teach Sameth the blocking abilities for the Unforgivables. In less than a week, his lessons with the boy would start, and it was imperative that Sam knew what to expect with the Dark Lord before other students arrived at Hogwarts. Particularly Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, whose identities were already known as future Death Eaters.

All of these students of his were joining. Despite the fact that he was a spy for Dumbledore, Severus felt some connection to his young Slytherins. After all, he was their head of house. 

Not for the first time since the announcement about Sameth's sorting did Severus wonder what house his son would be in. Of course, the hat might stick by its original decision, and Gryffindor would receive their first Death Eater in the generation. Or, Ravenclaw. Many ancestors of Severus's had been Ravenclaw's and the intelligence of his family had undoubtedly passed on to his son.

Hufflepuff was out of the question. No one took a Hufflepuff seriously, even if they were a Death Eater. Despite their loyalty traits, they were too bloody stupid to ever be truly great. Also, the house was plagued by being friends and all good to one another. No traitors in their midst, or if there were, they were few and far between. 

Which left Slytherin. It was, of course, a fairly obvious choice. Severus had been a Slytherin, he was even Head of Slytherin. Sameth would be a Death Eater, and would be considered "dark" enough to join in. Plus, there would be the bonus of being able to cozy up to Malfoy and his group, become one of the regulars. That would help in the long run.

Severus sighed. This morning he had seen some of the curiosity and yearning for knowledge in his son's eyes that reflected upon his own youth. Sam had wanted to know about the Unforgivables. Soon, he would be able to do them, and would eventually be practicing on humans. 

Severus remembered his own first kill. It had been many, many years ago. It was before he had even started Hogwarts. Yet, the image had stayed with him.

A muggle boy, no older than Severus, locked up in the family dungeon. Severus spent so much of his youth down there. No wonder he was so comfortable in the Slytherin rooms, with the stony décor and cold interior. 

Severus's father had called him down one day, torn him away from his reading. He gave Severus the practice wand that was unblockable by the Ministry. Then, he had told Severus to torture the muggle.

Severus, young and full of the new taught hate for all things non-magical, had leapt at the chance. He couldn't remember what hexes and curses he used, but they were strong and painful. The muggle hadn't lasted even a minute before crying. The image had shocked Severus, who hadn't cried since he was a baby. 

"See, my son. The muggles are all weak, stupid, useless. Kill him now!" Sameth, Severus's father had yelled at him.

Severus hoped to god that his son wouldn't be like his namesake.

Severus took the wand in his hand like he had practiced, calmly spoken the words he had learnt, and imagined all his hate and desires for the muggle to die. The green light, flowing out. Such a powerful day! He felt as though he was the king of the world. Killing always gave him a power rush.

The boy, for one second, knowing what was to come, but too late to do anything. He just stood there and took the light. Took the death that Severus and fate alike had dealt him. 

The power rush was far from his last.

Severus wondered who Sameth's first kill would be. Would he enjoy it as much has he had?

But, Sameth wasn't dark. He was doing this for the light, and the good, and all the things that he could help. He wouldn't be seduced by the power.

But, even as he was planning, Severus made sure to save the Killing Curse for last, using first the Imperious, and then the Cruciatus. Small, baby steps. One a day. Learn in the morning, practice in the afternoon. Essays at night. 

It was time for a lunch break. Sameth and Remeus had called for a house-elf to bring them up some sandwiches and pumpkin juice. Both were exhausted. Other than the pain transferal spell, Sam had learned nearly an entire months worth of NEWT level work. All he had conquered. 

"What book were you looking at when I came in this morning?" Remeus asked, wonderingly.

"Some Animagus instruction book. I thought it looked interesting." Sameth kept his tone normal. He had wanted to be an Animagus ever since he learnt such an animal existed.

"Would you like to know what animal you'd turn into?" Remeus asked?

"Can I?" Sameth couldn't wait.

"Sure. It's a fairly simple spell. Wizards who want to learn to become an Animagus use it to determine if they think they should be."

"Why wouldn't they want to?"

"Well," Remeus began "Imagine that you were a spy, or a person with a lot of secrets. Perhaps you'd like to become an Animagus to be able to sneak around better. But then, you perform the spell, and realize you would be turning into a polar bear! It wouldn't work easily at all."

Sameth nodded. It made sense.

"So everyone has just one animal that they turn into?" He asked.

"Yes. It's similar to a reflection of your true personality."

"Like Peter was a rat?"

Remeus nodded. "Yes. There is a reason why rats are associated with being dirty and disliked."

"Will you perform the spell on me?" Sameth asked.

"Yes. But would you want to become an Animagus?"

"That depends on the animal."

"Very well." 

Remeus pulled out his wand and tapped Sam's shoulder twice. 

"_verities esposizione_" He whispered.

There as a glowing in the air, as a great burst of silver cloud formed together and turned into different body parts. Sameth looked up above his head where the creature was forming.

A silky, middle-sized green and golden snake was hanging in midair, and all traces of the cloud had disappeared. 

"_Finite Incantatum!"_ The animal flew back into a cloud and then disappeared.

"No! I can't be a snake! What about all the bloody Slytherin's? They're nothing but Death Eaters and traitors? I can't be like them!" Sameth was furious with himself. How could his own personality be that of a snakes.

Even Remeus was shocked. But then again, why should he be? Severus was a Slytherin, and Sameth was very similar to the Dark Lord, who was also a Slytherin/ half snake. It did make sense in an twisted way. 

But still. The Golden-Boy! Harry Potter! The epitome of good itself! He couldn't be a snake. 

"It's okay, Sameth." He tried to reassure the panicking boy.

"Sameth the Snake! I wonder what precious Harry Potter's animal form would be? Probably a lion, or a stag, or something heroic and majestic." 

But you aren't Harry Potter anymore, are you? A voice in Sameth's head rang out. 

Sameth could deal with being a snake. It might even come in handy.

Sam was brought back to the present.

"Sorry Remeus," he said to the quiet man standing beside him, hand on his shoulder. "I guess I just freaked out a bit there."

"It's okay." then

"Do you want to be an Animagus?"

Sameth thought a bit. It would come in handy, and besides, he could already speak Parseltongue. 

"Yes."

"Good! I helped all the Marauders become Animagus's, and if Peter could learn how to, you can too. But there is simply not enough time in your training. We'd have to wait until later in the year."

Sameth nodded. "That's fine."

They finished their sandwiches and then started working on advanced transfiguration. Sameth had almost been able to turn a book into a clock at the end of the last year, but he seemed to be having difficulties grasping it. He wished he could just go brew some potions that was nice and easy.

Remeus noticed the boys struggle, too. Thinking over it, he realized it was probably because he had lost James Potter's talent for the subject. 

The days continued on like that. Harry would work in both the morning and afternoon with Remeus, dueling, learning, and applying. The only things he did not cover were Potions and the Unforgivables. Those would be covered much more in depth in only a few days time.

By the first of September, Hermione Granger was ready to leave the Muggle world for the Magical one. She was leaving today to go stay with Ron and Ginny, both of whom were her good friends. She had owled Ron about Harry's letter, and they had both agreed it was quite mysterious.

Ron couldn't help but feeling jealous. Of course Harry got to go train, to do something special for the war. He was the one who would save the whole world, after all. Ron just wished that he could have gone along and learnt some new things. He wasn't completely worthless, after all.

But such things compared to seeing Hermione. He had missed her this summer, and the Burrow seemed quiet now that the twins were gone, and most of his family were staying at Grimmauld Place. Ron wasn't old enough to go and so he and Ginny were left alone at the Burrow with their parents.

Besides, he'd always had a bit of a thing for his bushy-haired friend, and couldn't wait to see how she'd changed over the summer. He'd gotten even taller, and was eager to show off his newly found Quidditch playing abilities. 

Ginny, too was anxious to get some flying in. If Harry wouldn't be there at school this year, that meant that Gryffindor was down a Seeker. After how she'd done last year, maybe if she worked hard enough she'd be put in. 

Hermione stepped out of the car in front of the Burrow. Her parents had dropped her off, but felt rather unwilling to go inside. Not that they didn't like the Weasleys, but Arthur had always succeed at making them feel uncomfortable, and they didn't want to explain some of the more recent Muggle technology to him.

So with a happy heart Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had a reunion. They spent their days flying in the clearing, and just having a fun time with each other. Harry's presence was missed, but Ron almost found that he enjoyed being the main attention for once. Not that Harry always looked for the spotlight, of course.

Then, one day, the trio (Ron, Hermione, and Ginny) had decided to go to Diagon Alley to buy their school supplies. Hermione had some Muggle money that needed to be changed, so they headed towards Gringotts. Ron and Ginny had been given their money by their father, who could afford to give them a little more a piece now that the twins were self sufficient.

So the three hit all major stores, getting robes, parchment and quills, and, of course, books. Hermione spent nearly all her money in Flourish and Blotts, oohing and ahhing over the new course books. It was obvious that she'd have read and memorized them in less than twenty-four hours, but she was too thrilled to notice Ron and Ginny making fun of her love of the written word behind her back.

They enjoyed an ice-cream cone, and just sat in the sun watching all the passerby's. They didn't see anyone from school that they knew, although Ron did see an ugly old lady he thought reminded him of Goyle.

Meanwhile, that day at Hogwarts had been Sameth's first with Severus. They had started in the morning by brewing some advanced potions that Severus had assured him would be in the years coursework. After all, getting such an excellent grade in Potions would naturally mean that he would be in the advanced classes. And, from the way that he was working with the potions, it wouldn't be too hard for him to handle. 

The afternoon began with a quick testing of the potion. Then, onto the Imperious.

Severus gave Sameth a waiver to sign. Although not legal (due to the fact that the signer might already be under the Imperious), if the courts found out that a person was placed under an Unforgivable, they were more lenient if the person did it willingly. 

So, for the purposes of education, Sameth signed. He stood alone on the platform, Severus watching him from the desk. 

He didn't even see the Potion's master take his wand out before he felt the clearing of the head, the wonderful oblivion. Then, the voice.

__

Spin in a circle.

"I will not!"

__

Hit yourself.

There was some hesitation. Then- 

No!

__

Strangle yourself.

Sameth felt his hands and arms move to his throat. Obey the voice, stay in the oblivious, wonderful world around him. 

He regained control of his body movements. This time, he didn't even say anything, just forced his arms downwards.

He came out of the void. Opening eyes he didn't realize were closed, he looked up and saw Severus stand in front of him.

"Pretty good. You did follow some instructions, though."

"Like what?" Sam cried out indignantly. He didn't follow any instructions.

"Your eyes were shut."

"So? I probably did that myself."

"You couldn't have. Not under the Imperious. Don't you understand, boy? Under the curse every movement you make is controlled by me. I told you to close the eyes at the same time I told you to strange yourself. Good for you, you chose to stop the greater of the two. Once you get good enough at resisting, you will be able to stop all of them."

"But- I didn't even hear the command!"

"You blocked it out. Try again."

So the afternoon pressed on, with Sameth alternating being placed under the Imperious, then awaking to find something changed about him.

Sometimes it was subtle, like the angle of a foot. Other times, it was obvious that Sameth had done magic to himself, on account of he was pretty sure that his skin hadn't been tinged blue and green before he was under the curse.

As the day went on, he got better. Soon he could at least hear, if not disobey, every command.

Severus wanted to add another slot to Sameth's day, and begin Animagus training. As soon as he had found out what animal his son would transfer into, he was sure that he had a Slytherin son. He was rather proud, actually. His own Animagus form had ended up being a poisonous frog. 

He wasn't sure what that said about his personality. 

The days went on. 

Sameth learned more about the dark sides of things than he ever wanted to know. It had gotten to be so much that he had just ended up spending the "getting-to-know-you" times with Severus studying. 

His ability to withstand the Cruciatus was improving. His last clocking had been at over five minutes. The white-hot pain. He had come to enjoy it, find it as a way to escape the conformity of it all. Sameth liked the pain.

Learning the history behind it was also fascinating. Such a malice there was in the world that created spells and hexes for torture and pain. How many ways were there to turn good into evil. To corrupt, to destroy. 

He was still working on the Killing Curse. Sameth just couldn't seem to summon enough hate to actually kill something. He managed spiders alright, those were easy. But he hadn't even been able to kill a cat, even after hours of practice.

Severus was getting exasperated. If the boy couldn't kill a cat, how could he be expected to kill a human being? Much less some poor innocent muggle or mudblood standing before him. It would take a lot of time before he could be expected to do it.

Unfortunately, there was not much time left. Severus and Sameth were studying the dark curses and counter spells, potions and several charms. Sameth had gotten to be excellent at dueling, and could even defeat Severus if he tried hard enough. Which was quite some compliment, considering that Severus had known more dark magic before entering Hogwarts than most fully initiated Death Eaters. 

Severus also studied the pureblooded history with Sameth. It was something every pureblood who took pride in their history (unlike the Weasleys) learned at a very young age, and there was a lot of it. Sameth was expected to know how many generations back he had been a pureblood. Fortunately, the Snape's kept excellent records, and Sameth found out that he himself was a twenty-sixth generation pureblood. That was three past the Malfoy's. The most the Ministry required as a definition to be pureblooded was three.

Voldemort himself only wanted there to be at least a ten generation pureblooded line in every family. It reminded Sameth, however, as ironic that the great Dark Lord didn't even meet the requirements needed to be classified by the Ministry as a pureblood.

But other than the family history, there was also a lot of other things to learn. There were traditions and practices that were very medieval, kept alive only by the certain sect of purebloods. Sameth would recited the list of these every night, to make sure they would not be forgotten.  


Before too long, it was the morning of the tenth of September. Harry had one last morning training session with Severus, then he was to stay in his room the rest of the day. 

It didn't want to seem to obvious if Sameth arrived at the same time the majority of the Wizarding world found out about Harry Potter's disappearance. 

He would stay quiet, only traveling out around with the Invisibility cloak on. He was welcome to sit in on any classes of his, but would not turn in any work or cause any harm. All these rules were laid down by the Headmaster, in order to prove safe. 

Then, after a week or so, then Sameth would officially arrive, be welcomed, sorted, and begin classes. It was unusual, but it would raise less eyebrows. Fake papers had been made, transferring him from Durmstrang, and Sameth had read some histories of his former school, just in case anyone had any questions. 

As for Quidditch, he was welcome to try out for his new houses' (whatever that would be) team. His broom had been traded in for a newer one, with the Firebolt bringing in such a good price that Sameth only had to pay a surplus of 100 galleons for his new broom. It was silver, sleek, a wonder to fly with. 

Sameth regularly practiced his Quidditch skills at night, under the supervision of Madame Hooch, who loved watching the beautiful broom in action. She was so fond of the broom, she nearly had a heart attack when Sameth let her ride it. After all, a Snape being nice?

So, finally, it was the day the students arrived.

Sameth was under his cloak, waiting in the entrance hall. He couldn't wait to see his friends, although he was rather depressed that they couldn't see him, or that when they did, they wouldn't recognize him.

He had fully transformed into Sameth Snape. His nose was the same as his fathers, his eyes a dark brown, his hair black. It was only greasy, however, when he was making Potions for too long, leaning his hair over the boiling substances. 

Although he was the son of Severus, he was actually decent looking. Without the scar, he didn't mind not being Harry Potter anymore. He did enjoy being a new person. A chance to start fresh, if you like.

He watched under the cloaks as the second through seventh years were brought in and sat at their tables. The sorting began, next, with a somewhat smaller class than normal. Sameth guessed everyone was afraid of the war, and loathe to send their children away.

However, there were no recognizable faces among the first years. Some names were the same, as younger siblings joined the school. There was a new Parkinson, as well as a younger Finnigan. Seamus's brother was sorted into Hufflepuff, and the Parkinson went into Slytherin.

Harry watched Ron, Hermione, and Ginny joke and talk amongst themselves at the feast. He didn't seem to even be missed. He was jealous, wishing he could be sitting in his regular spot that Ginny had so graciously taken over in his absence.

Before too long, the sorting was over, and Dumbledore had made the traditional announcements. Welcoming Remeus back as the Defense 

Against Dark Art Professor met with the most enthusiastic applause any of the Professors had gotten. Well, excluding the news of Lockharts decision to leave, that is. Dumbledore then stood up with an extra announcement.

"It is my regret to inform you that a student of ours will no longer be attending the school. Harry Potter, who would be a sixth year Gryffindor, has left, due to some… ah, business. We kindly await his return, although at this time we are not quite sure when it will be."

He sat down, and the food appeared. For a minute, most of the school couldn't speak. A year without Harry Potter? 

Sameth, who was standing closer to the tables, could hear snatches of conversations.

"I wonder if that means You-Know-Who got him?"

"I bet he's off fighting against Death Eaters!"

"Who'll be our Seeker now?"

The last one was from the collected Gryffindor table. It made Sameth a little angry. Good to know that they would miss him, anyways. 

He wandered around for awhile, then went up to his room. Sitting there stroking Adai's feathers, he felt lonely. Deciding that he'd better study if he was going to make a Intoxication Potion during Severus's free period tomorrow, he hit the books.

Sam spent the rest of the week in isolation except from Severus, Remeus and Dumbledore. He threw himself into his work with an unmatched vigor and zealousness that startled the professors. 

If he worked hard enough, soon his week of exile would be over. 

It was on a Saturday night that he would make his return. The days were being counted down, until, finally, the night of the feast had arrived. 

Instead of wearing his cloak as normal, Sameth sat with Dumbledore at the Head table. Sitting next to him was the Sorting Hat and stool. Sameth felt more nervous than he had been at his original sorting.

Once the students were seated, Dumbledore stood up.

"I have a announcement to make. Don't worry, those of you who wish to eat and then hurry back to your common rooms to study, it won't take long.

We have a new student. He's a late arrival from Durmstrang, and will be sorted into his house tonight, and then will join the sixth years in their studies."

The audience all gaped at Sameth. Several girls could be heard giggling, and it took a few moments from Dumbledore to keep things straightened out.

"Those of you who have been here before may recognize his face. Sameth here," he said, gesturing to the boy, "is the son of our Potions Master, Professor Snape." 

If the audience was loud before, then now they were chaos. Snape had actually had sex with a woman? The revelation was shattering. Severus, of course, just watched the events unfold. He didn't really care. 

"So, Sameth Snape, please be sorted."

Sameth stood up, and placed the hat on his head. Similar to the first time he had been in this situation, the crowd was all craning their heads, trying to get a peek at him.

"Ah, Mr. Snape. Good to see you again."

"You knew the first time, didn't you? That's why you said I should be in Slytherin."

"I said you should be in Slytherin because you could be great in there. I still stand by it. I judge you, Mr. Snape, not your family."

"So, anything changed?"

"Yes, Mr. Snape. You are more trusting, eager to be where you will benefit the most. Intelligence is incredibly strong, Ravenclaw has always been a definite option. However, you would not be happy there. Too quiet, too studious. You are brave and have plenty of courage, also. Good, good. That's not changed. You could still make an excellent Gryffindor."

"Which one, then?" Sameth was impatient.

"What's your hurry? I believe you already know where you should go. At least you aren't against it this time."

"So, I'm going to be a" Sameth thought, just as the hat yelled out

"SLYTHERIN"

There was some cheers and applause from the Slytherin table, but the rest of the hall stood silent. Not that any of them were really surprised. They were just still bowed over by the fact that Snape had had sex. With a partner.

Sameth walked over to the table, after replacing the hat back on the stool. Severus smiled a bit at him, not noticeably enough to be detected by the crowd. 

He sat down in an empty seat between Blaise Zabini and Goyle. On the other side of Goyle was Draco Malfoy. Neither of the boys noticed, but Severus was closely watching the events that transpired between the two.

"Goyle, switch seats with Snape." Malfoy ordered. "I want to talk with the newest Slytherin."

Goyle obliged, as did Sameth. He didn't want to start out on any Malfoy's bad side. He'd heard how close Lucius was to Voldemort, and if Sameth wanted to get on the good side of his future Dark Lord, then he'd make friends with Malfoy.

"So, Sameth, was it?"

"Sameth Snape." Sameth offered a hand, which Malfoy shook. 

"I'm Draco Malfoy." 

"I've heard about you." Sameth said. "From my father."

"And? What has he said?" 

"You're probably one of the best Potions students he has. He knows your father, too. Says he has the 'right' kind of ideas."

"Oh, does he?" Malfoy got a look in his eye.

"Yes."

"And, you, Sameth. What do you think of my father's ideas?"

"I'd have to agree with him. They are the right sort of ideas. And, from the looks of it, I'm not the only one. I guess we'll find out in eight."

Sameth was being fairly obvious about letting Malfoy know where his loyalties lay. The "eight" comment would be easily figured out by anyone who knew what would happen in eight days, and that, of course, would be the beginning initiation of the new Death Eaters.

Malfoy just smirked. "I think we will be getting along this year, Sameth. You do seem to have the right ideas."

All around the table, the Slytherins nodded, or the ones who knew what would happen anyway. Zabini, Goyle, and Crabbe all shook his hand and introduced themselves as well. Malfoy also introduced Pansy Parkinson, who had changed so much (for the better) over the summer that Sam didn't even recognize her. 

Sameth settled into the table, and hoped to God he could play this one right. This was what he'd been training for, and what he would still continue training for. 

Meanwhile, the Gryffindor table was talking about the newest member at Hogwarts, too. 

"Of course he'd be a Slytherin, after his father and everything." Ron was grumbling. He didn't like the idea of having two Snapes with him now.

"I don't know, he's over there acting all buddy-buddy with Malfoy," Hermione observed. "He probably already knew what house he'd be in."

"I just wish Harry were here, to help us deal with them." Ron pointed out.

Agreement was echoed around the table. Somehow, Gryffindor wasn't the same without their star. 

"Although," Ginny entered the conversation, "Snape is kinda hot."

At the horrified glances around her, she specified "Sameth, you twits." This comment was meet with a disgusted look by Ron, and agreement by many of the girls at the table. 

The Head table was abuzz, too. Several of the professors who hadn't been at school over the summer congratulated Severus on his son's arrival and placement. They were all thinking the same thing, though. 

"What kind of trouble will this mean for this year?"

Severus was proud of Sam. He would make a good Slytherin, and not just to fool the Death Eaters. He was cunning, sly, and ambitious. It might work out, after all.

__

Right. Well, another chapter. This one's a bit longer than the others, that's to make up for the delay. 

I know making Sam a Slytherin is something that's been done and done again. But, it really is necessary in order to make all these connections. I won't have things be easy for one of our favorite Snapes, though, don't worry. Next chapter will include classes beginning, and may have some Quidditch in it. 

Questions and Comments can be left in reviews, or sent to _Leuca_2007@hotmail.com__._

Special thanks go out to-

SlythCat19

The Vampire Story Hunter

Jedi Buttercup

Rhiannon

Mjk306

Ennui DeMorte

Kneh13

HecateDeMort

Eriee

BaYer04rulz

Xyverz

Maxx77

Athena kitty

Kateril

FoolishMisery

Starange12106


	9. Chapter Nine

Like Father Like Son

__

Chapter rated R for language. 

Sameth woke up early on the day he would begin classes. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see- nothing. Everything was still dark. That was odd. Normally, he'd wake up to a stream of sunlight coming in through the window.

Sameth sat up. Oh, right. He was in the Slytherin dorms. He had been loathe to give up his rooms, but both Severus and Dumbledore had thought it best if he became an integral part of the Slytherin house, and, unfortunately, that meant staying in the dorms.

With Malfoy. Goyle. Zabini. Crabbe.

Lucky for him, they had all been very receptive the night before, accepting his Durmstrang excuses, believing his stories about how he had grown up ignorant of his father's loyalties to the Dark Lord. Of course, ever the pureblood, Sameth was eager to join and prove his worth to the Death Eaters. This had met with immediate approval. Today, the countdown of days until the beginning initiation was a full week. 

He had also been grilled on the curses he could do. Malfoy was bragging about his successful use of the Unforgivables on over twelve muggles that summer. He told them that he had used Imperious on a human, but that was about it, although he could kill small animals (Sam didn't tell them exactly how small) with the other two.

Sameth got out of his bed, missing the brightness and familiarity of his own rooms. It was too cold here, but Sam couldn't shiver. That had been in one of the lessons by Severus. A true Slytherin never got cold. They enjoyed it, remaining distant from the heat. A false Slytherin could be pointed out immediately because of this trait.

Sameth also missed Adai, who had remained with him in his rooms before. The owl was extremely comforting, but now was in the Owlry, along with the school owls, and probably Hedwig, too. 

Sameth got dressed, missing the comforting Gryffindor colours. Now, he had the dark Slytherin green to wear, and he was ashamed. To be in Slytherin, to be a Snape. 

Normally he accepted himself for it, but today, waking up in the cold, lone dungeons, he felt homesick for himself. Harry Potter was dead, along with fame and glory, and Ron and Hermione, but in his stead was Sameth, who had a family, knew where he belonged. 

Sameth got ready for his first real day of classes. His schedule had been fixed, and already given to him. He had the majority of his classes with Malfoy, who had turned out to be rather intelligent, contrary to popular belief. Sam was in advanced classes, and even helping tutor some younger Slytherins in Potions in his free periods. Then, after classes there were extra potions with his father, alternating with lessons with Remus.

After getting dressed in tan trousers and a green sweater under his robes, Sameth followed the labyrinth passages up to the Great Hall, where breakfast was being served. 

Upon entering the magnificent room filled with half awake, half dreaming students, Sameth just nearly caught himself from walking over to the Gryffindor table. Malfoy saw him, luckily enough (which was an odd feeling, seeing Malfoy should never be a lucky thing) and grabbed his arm. 

"Slytherin Table is over here.." he gestured. "You don't want to be hanging around with the mudblood Gryffies, do you?" 

"Of course not!" Sameth did his best to sound like the rich, spoiled pureblood he was supposed to be. "Are you insinuating that there are any doubts about where my loyalties lie, Malfoy?" This part was in a low murmur that had the tone of a threat. It was enough to make Draco Malfoy, known as the commander of all comments nasty and cold, stand up a little straighter. There was something in this Snape, after all.

"Not at all," Draco said with a hint of a smirk, "you seem to be a bright one, Snape. Wouldn't want you to get sucked in by that pool of filth."

"Thanks. I'll take your advice," and Sameth held out his hand, remembering a very similar conversation that had taken place nearly five years ago, with a very different outcome.

Malfoy took his hand, the smirk fading. The two sixth years went silently back to the Slytherins.

Their rather confrontational conversation had caused some interest in the "pool of filth." 

"Whatd'ya think that was about?" Ron articulated through a mouthful of toast and pumpkin juice.

"It's like they were testing each other," Hermione had even managed to put down the paper to watch the two Slytherins.

"Well, who won?" Ginny, tagging along to breakfast with the two, interjected. Up until now her eyes had been darting around the Hall, remaining just a touch longer on the green and silver tables. It wouldn't have been noticeable unless you were looking for it. 

"I think it was a tie." Dean Thomas remarked rather offhandedly. 

Ginny turned to him and smiled. They were dating after all, and she had a feeling that he was rather upset at not being able to see her all summer. Her mother was horribly old-fashioned, and not thought it proper for her to go spend a week with him.

Ron scowled at his sisters smile, but didn't say anything, because he had a feeling Hermione would shoot arrows with her eyes, instead of the current daggers.

Back at the Slytherin table, another interesting conversation was taking place. The Bloody Baron had showed up at the far end of the table, away from where Draco, Sameth, and Blaise had sat down. His silver, bloody complexion stood out against the early morning sunlight streaming through the ceiling. 

"Who's that?" Sameth asked, knowing that it would sound odd if he didn't.

"The Bloody Baron, Slytherin's house ghost." Blaise Zabini answered. "And if you're going to ask how he got covered in blood, save it. No one knows."

Sameth nodded. He was given another copy of his schedule by Draco, who was pompously acting the part of Prefact. It would have been eerily like Percy had been those years ago, but Sameth thought that no matter how much of a git Percy was being now, he would never have threatened to poison a first year with an excess amount of Bubotuber pus, the way Draco was doing now.

Draco returned to where Sam and Blaise were sitting. He truly disliked being a prefect, but his father wanted him to become Head Boy, be the perfect son.

He had barely managed to sit down when the table was joined by Pansy Parkinson, Sally-Anne Perks, and Millicent Bulstrode. 

Sameth remembered what his father had told him about Pansy and Malfoy's impending marriage. He almost felt sorry for Draco, although it wasn't as bad as it could be. Pansy was looking less like a pug dog as she grew older. 

She was sitting by Draco, and across from Sameth. Giving the newest Slytherin a scrutinizing glance, she introduced herself and her companions. 

Millicent soon wandered off to sit next to Crabbe and Goyle, who were apparently cousins of hers or something. Sameth blanched at the thought of any of them being anything more, feeling sorry for their future children, if there would be any.

Draco and Pansy remained civil during breakfast, Pansy simpering less than Sameth had imagined she would. They were discussing the current interest rates at Gringotts and other banking terms. Sameth wasn't really interested, so he turned his attention around the room.

The Ravenclaws were all sitting there, neat and studious. The majority of them were either reading the paper or had a book beside their plate. Sameth, for once, was glad he had not been sorted with that group. Even if the Slytherins were all Death Eaters, at least they had personality.

And, soon enough, he'd be like them, anyways.

The Hufflepuff table was next. From where he was sitting, Sam had the perfect look at Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones playing footsie under the table. At least that squashed the growing suspicion that most of the student body had that he was as straight as a circle. 

He turned away after a few moments. Nothing else horribly interesting was going on at the Hufflepuff table, so he turned his attention to the Gryffindors. When he looked up at them, several of his fellow sixth years looked away. Apparently they had been watching him. Sam, who was normally observant as to when he was being observed, was rather taken aback. 

He scanned the table, from the very new first years who he didn't really know or care much about, to the other end, where his friends were sitting. 

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were watching him, he could tell. They were also trying to giggle. It was kind of unnerving. Were they laughing at him?

Ginny was sitting altogether too close to Dean Thomas for breakfast, and although Ron was facing away from Sam, he could just imagine the expression on his face. 

Hermione's face was turned to the side, so Sameth saw her profile. She seemed to be the only thing calming Ron down, and it wasn't helping too much.

"Pathetic, aren't they?" A voice interrupted Sameth's thoughts. Draco had broken away from Pansy's conversation, leaving her talking to Sally-Anne and Blaise. He had followed Sam's gaze across the room. "Especially that family. The Weasleys."

"Are they mudbloods?" Sameth asked, the word uncomfortably twisting on his tongue. Soon it would come with ease.

"No, but almost. Didn't your father tell you about them?" Sameth shook his head no. "Pureblooded, but dirt poor and Muggle lovers. Parents had too many of the little boogers too feed, or something like that. You can tell them by that hideous red hair. Although the little girl there looks like a good fuck."

"Hmm." Every big brother instinct that Harry had ever had for Ginny was coming in full force, but he contained his feelings. "What about that one, next to the other Weasley?"

"Oh, Granger?" Sameth nodded. "She _is _a mudblood. Comes in here, thinking she is better than anyone else. Only mediocre at magic, but she can memorize all the books and the teachers think she's bloody brilliant. Come on."

Malfoy started walking away, towards the area of interest. 

"Where?" Sameth called after him, before he got too far. 

"Weasel-baiting."

Sameth walked quickly to catch up. He braced his own nerves, hoping that he could taunt and torment the Gryffindors along with Malfoy.

They arrived at the table in a matter of seconds. Malfoy started in first. 

"Oh, how cute. The Weaslette has a boyfriend. Tell me, Thomas, is she any good? I wouldn't mind a ride or two." 

Ron turned bright red, and Thomas comforted the visibly upset Ginny.

"Shhh. Don't worry about Malfoy, remember. He's just upset because the only one who'll come near him is Pansy."

This made a little smile crack out on Ginny's face. Sameth expected Draco to get upset at this comment, but instead he was smirking just like Ginny, in a more evil and terrifying way.

"I don't know about that, Thomas. Tell me, does your mother still whore on that corner in Muggle London? I seem to remember a few fucks from the summer. She does marvelous things with her tongue."

Dean stood up, furor in his eyes. From his reaction, Draco was apparently telling the truth. 

Ron leaped up as well. 

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy. Annoying ferret, tell me if you had fun this summer, being your father's little bitch? And who's this?" Ron said, jabbing Sameth in the chest. He was so close, Sam could see the perspiration on his forehead. "Who's this? Your newest fuck toy? Crabbe and Goyle stop letting you in?"

Draco just smirked wider, keeping the ice in his eyes very readable. 

"No, they had a few go's with your sister and got a few diseases that need to be cleared up."

That was too much for Ron, who stood up quickly. He pulled his wand out, jabbing it at Malfoy. 

Sameth, thoroughly enjoying being on the other side of the fight for a change, grabbed his wand out, to help Draco.

Dean saw this movement, and within a few seconds his wand was out, too. 

Hermione had been sitting quietly for now, a disapproving look on her face, but as soon as she saw the draws, she quickly drew out her want, and stepped between the two, preventing any immediate action. 

As a prefect, she knew she should stop this and take away house points, but Malfoy was a prefect too, and if she dared to take any away from Slytherin, then there would be at least three times as many taken away from her own house. 

So there they all stood, Dean's wand at Sam, Sam's on Hermione, Draco's on Ron's, Hermione's on Draco, and Ron' s on Draco.

It was rather a compromising situation that they were found in a minute later. Fortunately, for the Slytherins anyways, it could have been worse.

"Sameth!" Professor Snape approached the close group.

"Yes, Father?" They had agreed it was for the best if they called each other more personal names than "Professor."

"What is going on here?" To everyone else, the ill-tempered Potion's masters voice was deadly dangerous. Like a five foot icicle dangling above your head, pining you to a wall. One wrong move, and you've got a sharp piece of frozen water coming out the top of your head.

But to Sameth, there was something else in the voice. It was a touch of humor, and a little glee. Professor Snape was actually looking forward to this! He enjoyed this needless torment, got off on the feelings of panic he inflicted. To Gryffindors, anyway.

Sameth started talking. "Father, Draco and I were walking across the Hall, when Weasley here stood up and attacked us. In self-defense, I drew my wand, and they," here he gestured to Hermione and Dean, "drew theirs as well."

He hated the whiny tone his voice carried, but he had to admit, it did sound like Malfoy when he was suckering out of something. 

"Malfoy, is this true?" Snape kept his frigid voice neutral, although there was no doubt that there would be some punishment for the three Gryffindors.

"Yes, sir." Malfoy nodded, playing the part of the accosted Prefect, trying to maintain order.

"Well then, Weasley, Granger, Thomas. It seems as if you can't even make it more than ten days into a school year without getting in trouble. I had hoped when that foolish Potter was gone then there would be some peace and quiet for once."

Ron immediately began to stand up for Harry, protesting against the Professor. Hermione elbowed him and he finally shut up.

Sameth felt rather conflicted. It was almost as if his father was rubbing Harry's, his own, disappearance in the face of his old friends. He did feel rather comforted that Ron was sticking up for him, though.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, if you cannot keep your temper under control, then I'm going to have to assign a detention. For all three of you."

Dean barely concealed a groan.

"Tonight at seven in the dungeons. Now, Malfoy, Sameth, I suggest you hurry to class. I believe Professor McGonagall does get upset when her students are late."

"Yes, Father." And with that the looming bat like man was gone, swooping off into the hallway, pulling his cloak around him tightly.

Sameth thought for a bit. Severus had assigned the detention at seven, during his own personal potions lesson. How was he supposed to train to be a Death Eater if Ron and Hermione were there?

Snapping out of it, he and Malfoy made their way to the Transfiguration room.

"It must suck to have your father here at school." Malfoy made conversation.

"Yeah. But maybe he'll help against the mudbloods."

"You should have been here last year. We finally had some good direction here, and those damn Gryffindors weren't getting special privileges the way they do under Dumbledore, the old fool." 

"I hope they find a new headmaster soon, one more sympathetic to the cause."

"It won't happen. Even though the Minister hates Dumbledore running the school, they'll never find a new one that they'll approve of."

"Hmm."

"You're just lucky you weren't here when Dumbledore had his Golden Boy here." 

"Who?" Sameth asked, trying to keep his voice from betraying himself.

They passed into an empty corridor, Sameth pretending to not know where he was going.

"Harry Potter. If you think that the Weasley's have it bad for the Muggles, you should have seen Potter. He tried everything he could to make us look bad. Always sticking up for the weak mudbloods. If there's one person I can't stand, its Potter."

"Where did he go, anyway?"

"Father said that he just disappeared. They don't have any idea about where he went, but people have been talking that he's either hiding somewhere, away from, well, you know, or he's training."

Sam just nodded. So things were working out as they were supposed to. If you could trust Malfoy to be telling the truth, which, he supposed, you couldn't, then people really didn't know about him. It was comforting.

They reached the classroom. Slytherins had the Advanced Transfiguration class with the Ravenclaws, so Sameth really didn't know anyone. Sure, he could pick out a few faces, like Padma Patil and Michael Corner, but that was about it. 

Today they would be learning about turning something from a soft material into something made of metal or stronger. It was a more complex lesson that Sameth struggled with at first. He seemed to have lost his talent for the subject, and he was getting rather demeaning looks from the perfect Ravenclaw's. 

This made him work harder, to prove himself. Finally, he remembered the chemical composition of the metals he was changing, and used the Arithmancy formula to find the way to easily transfigure them. 

He seemed to have picked up a knack for all the harder subjects that he had struggled with last year. However, using them together, he was incredibly gifted in all areas. He found the looks of the Ravenclaws change as he easily completed the lesson.

"Excellent job, Mr. Snape." Professor McGonagall stood watching him. "A wonderful application of the vectors of numerology. Ten points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, Professor." Sameth smiled a bit, making a few of the Ravenclaw girls gasp. 

Draco looked at him in a funny way after McGonagall had moved on.

"What?"

"McGonagall hates all Slytherins. Wonder why she was so nice to you?"

"I saw her shag Dumbledore and am blackmailing her," Sameth joked. Malfoy just looked disturbed.

"That's just wrong."

"You asked."

"You're sick." With that comment, Malfoy just turned back to his work.

Sameth was astounded. Had he just joked around with Malfoy? Weird.

He turned back to his lesson. 

The next class was Herbology, which was with the Gryffindors. The lesson went rather well, with murderous looks being shot across the table, and a couple Gryffindors getting bits of plants flung at them behind Professor Sprout's back. 

Then lunch, during which Blaise, Draco and Sameth returned to the common room, discussing at great length what career they hoped Voldemort would pick for them. Draco wanted to be a Slayer, an assassin for the Dark Lord, while Blaise favored the more graceful position of spy. He did have a talent with robbing while being unnoticed, which helped when they needed to brew a potion on the sly.

Sameth confessed to his desire to work with Potions, and the others agreed that it would be good for him, being Severus's son.

Soon enough, though, it was time to leave the secrecy and darkness of the common room and go to the dungeons for Potions. 

It would be a double Potions with Gryffindors. Sameth couldn't wait to be on the other side of his father's wrath.

He took a seat next to Malfoy in the dungeons, earning himself a bad look from Pansy, but shrugging it off. He also received a much more negative reaction than anticipated from the Gryffindors, who had probably all witnessed or been told about the fight this morning.

Snape swept into the room just as the class started. He looked around the room disdainfully.

"I see very little talent in brewing potions. I do not know how the majority of you simpering idiots made it into this advanced Potions class, but let me assure each and every one of you," looking at the Gryffindors while saying this, "that if you do not perform satisfactorily in this class, you will fail and be kicked out." 

Hermione's face seemed to grow white, and she sat up a little straighter. Dean, also in the class, shrank back a bit. At least Ron hadn't had the grades to be in the class, or that would have been suicide.

"Now," Snape began instructing, "today we will be working on a Cross-Species potion. Similar to the Polyjuice which we will be making later, this potion works with an animal hair. However, unlike becoming an Animagus, you do not remain in the body of the animal for any more than three minutes. Find the potion in your book, and begin. We will be working on this potion for the next three days, so at the end of class simply leave your cauldron simmering, and we will pick it up from there tomorrow. Do not leave the cauldron on any heat above 120 degrees or you will be severely injured when you test the potion on Wednesday. Well? Begin!"

The disgruntled Professor then sat at his desk, and watched the terrified students begin. This was by far the most complex potion the majority of them had ever brewed, with the exceptions of Malfoy and Sameth.

The class went on for about fifteen minutes, until Snape started stalking the rows of students, critiquing the potions that were just becoming assembled.

"Pathetic, Thomas. If you were to keep making the potion as it is, even correctly following the instructions perfectly, you would already have messed it up. If you were to drink it, you would surely die. Start again."

Dean, fearfully nodded. This was becoming dangerous, and he was worried.

Hermione was working away diligently. She was more aware of this potion than the others. Fred and George had even used a version of it in their infamous Canary Creams. 

Professor Snape saw this, and merely nodded at her, a sign of great approval. If there was a topic you could do well in by memorizing all the text you could on a subject, it would be Potions. However, Hermione lacked the thing that a true brewer needed, and that was the connection with the subject.

Sameth had it, which was why, in a week, he would most likely be a new apprentice to Severus himself, training him for Voldemort. 

Sameth's potion was perfect, as expected. He could be trusted to make something like this, it was simple for him. Tonight, during their private lessons, though, Severus would come up with something a touch more difficult. 

Snape had not forgotten about the detentions he had given to the Gryffindors. In one way, it was working out perfectly. He would have Sameth down in the dungeons with him, probably brewing an immensely difficult potion, and most likely a poison. It would make the Gryffindors fear him, and it would be a tool he could use later.

Sameth hadn't let his emotion towards his friends stop him from helping Malfoy this morning, and that was good. Severus was proud of his son's ability to fully get into the role he now played.

The lesson continued, on as such, and it was when Severus was gently slipping advice to Blaise Zabini for his potion that the explosion happened.

The room seemed to expand and contract within a matter of nanoseconds.

Severus felt stretched out as he made his way to the front of the room, seemingly the epicenter of the incident.

He found Dean Thomas knocked unconscious and Hermione Granger babbling incoherently. He sent both of them up to the Infirmary while he checked the potion. Malfoy looked a tad smug, and he looked for signs of tampering. 

Sure enough, there it was. A small ball of clover leaves tied together at the bottom of the potion. The reaction would have been enough to cause the mishap, and perhaps could have robbed Granger of ability to speak. 

He looked knowingly at Sameth, and was met by a rather sick look. Yes, it would be hard for Sameth to hurt a friend of his, but with Malfoy there, there would have been nothing he could have done.

It was a step in the right direction. Maybe now he could kill that damn cat.

Madame Pomfrey closely inspected both patients. She shut Hermione up with a sleeping potion, hoping that she would have regained her senses when she woke up. Also, Dean was easy to cure, just needing a simple "Enervate". She kept in the Hospital wing for inspection, however. 

Ron and Ginny showed up to see their two friends, Dean telling them what had happened. 

"Snape threw something into my potion. The next thing I knew, I woke up here."

"But why would Professor Snape purposely injure students?" Ginny questioned. 

"Not Professor Snape, his son."

"That bastard! They've taken Harry away, and in his place we get another Malfoy." Ron put in his two cents worth.

"We've got to get revenge, somehow."

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Sameth found himself the center of attention. Everyone thought him a hero, after all, it was his first day of classes and he'd already managed to take out two Gryffindors. The way things were going, they'd manage to win the House Cup this year. 

Speaking of Cups, Sam was asking around about Quidditch. Just because he couldn't play on the Gryffindor team didn't mean that he couldn't play at all. Unluckily for him, however, Malfoy was team captain, and Seeker. He didn't have an icicles chance in hell at his favored position. 

The other positions open were Keeper and Chaser. In some old practices, he'd played Keeper once or twice, and while he wasn't exactly an Oliver Wood at it, he was pretty good. Tryouts were on Thursday night, and so Sam figured he'd go down and give it a shot.

His new broom was superb. It was a Spanish racing broom, called the "Ignition 250". It's silver coated handle was magnificent at turning and speed. Even if the rest of the school were riding angry dragons, he would still out last them to the finish line. Hell, he'd be there miles before they were. 

It was also the broom of someone very rich and powerful. In fact, most of the market wasn't even allowed to have them yet. It had taken a force of many galleons to persuade the manufacturer to sell him one. But, it would be worth it for his Quidditch career. 

Sameth turned his mind off Quidditch, to more pressing school problems. 

Sameth did his homework, biding his time until he met with his father. Around six-forty five, he headed down to the Potions lab, where he would work with his father. Then, tomorrow night, he would meet with Remus in the Room of Requirement. 

He arrived early, and his father asked him kindly how his day went. Severus asked him if he thought he would be ready for next week, and was pleased with an affirmative answer. 

He wasn't really looking forward to his son's initiation at all, remembering the pain he was forced to suffer. Hopefully, though, if Sameth was chosen for Potions, then Severus himself would be his tutor and things would be much more pleasant on the both of them. 

Then, around seven, the three Gryffindors entered the dungeons. Receiving matching hate-glares edged with curiosity from all of them, Sameth just nodded. 

Severus stood up from his desk where he had been sitting.

"You three will be responsible for scraping the bottoms of these cauldron's," Snape said, gesturing to a pile of at least fifty cauldrons, the majority of which were covered in a foul smelling liquid. "But there is to be no magic, so hand over your wands."

The Gryffindors regretfully parted with their wands, and began scrubbing the cauldron bottoms, cringing at the smell, and sight of what was inside.

Sameth sent his father a questioning look. 

"Third years were working with dead squid tentacles and maggots." Severus said with a hint of a smirk, very much like Sameth's own.

"Now, Sameth," Snape said loudly enough so that the Gryffindors could hear, "you will be making an Infusion of Belladonna mixed with tobacco leaves from India. Tell me what the reaction will be to any that drink it."

"I believe it will form a deadly potion that looks very similar to Veritaserum, used by Wizards of the past to kill witnesses to crimes."

"Excellent. Have you been studying the material I gave you?" This was a hidden reference to the dozens of books assigned to Sameth to study for his upcoming initiation.

"Of course, Father."

"Begin work on the potion. When it is finished, bottle it and bring a sample to me. You may have the rest for whatever purpose you wish."

The three Gryffindors were starting to get nervous. Did Professor Snape just give a sixth year permission to brew not only a deadly potion, but to keep some of it for himself?

"Yes, Father."

The rest of the night was spent working on the potion. Hermione was sneaking glances at him, and she had to admit, he had the poise and graceful fingers of a true brewer. She had heard of the potion before, while reading "Great Wizarding Trials of the 1200's". It was supposedly near impossible to make, yet a sixth year student was brewing it perfectly.

She was very nervous. He must be very dangerous to be able to do something like this, and this was the first year in a long time that Hogwarts had not had Harry Potter here to protect it.

__

Well, another chapter! Sorry for taking so long to update. School and track caught up with me quickly. 

Thanks to the following reviewers, you know I appreciate all the feedback you guys give me. 

If you want to reach me without leaving a review, just email me at _Leuca_2007@hotmail.com_

Also, if you have a story you want me to read and review, leave a note and I'll be happy to return the favor back to you! I read just about any kind of story, so don't worry about if yours is fluffy or anything! 

Thanks!

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